Cypher
by birdiee
Summary: The blade is no ordinary weapon Sara and it has chosen you... It must feed" he told her as he began to fade away. "Feed the blade Sara, or it will feed off of you
1. To all things

Authors Note: Please excuse all spelling, grammar and formatting errors, I'm hoping by chapter 10 I'll have remembered when to double space, and when to hit enter ;p

Disclaimer: The witchblade etc.. belongs to TopCow etc…

Chapter 1: To all things….

            Black…all around her, complete darkness.  There were horns, in the distance, she could just barely make them out.  She shivered violently, not quite able to understand where she was and what she was doing, but she could make out the horns and they seemed to be getting louder.  She knew she was wet. From the rain she supposed…and something else.  Tears.  She had definitely been crying…a river of tears, though she could no longer remember why.  There was something else… her eyes…they were closed.  Perhaps if she could just open them, she might understand what was happening to her… if she could just will them to… open.

            She heard it first, the reality of where she was.  The delicate sound of metal scraping against metal, the screech of tires against pavement, the sickening thud of a vehicle slamming into another and another and another.  What she saw was headlights, quickly approaching the section of roadway she had seemingly wandered into. And then once again, black.

            He awoke suddenly, immediately sitting upright.  Something was wrong, he could sense it.  As if to confirm his fear, the phone on his nightstand rang.  

            "Ian…she is in danger…quickly".  Irons hung up the phone needing not wait for a reply. Ian's response when it came to the wielder was pretty much predictable.  'Shortly…' Irons thought, lifting back the bed sheet that covered him 'he would have the answer to the source of Sara's danger and the reason for the black and blue marks developing across his side.'

            "Is anything broken? Is she alright? Can I see her?  A barrage of questions came flustering out of Jake McCarty to the female Doctor attending to Sara.

            "Please Detective, I'm going to need you to calm down".  Jake ran his hand through his hair, and bit off the curse he wanted to respond with.

            "She's going to be fine…physically."   The doctor looked through the door at Sara lying in her bed, eyes closed.  "She's got some cuts and bruises but it's nothing too serious."  

            Jake sighed with relief, also turning to watch the resting detective through the glass.  "Wait a minute, what do you mean physically?"  

            The doctor sighed and turned away from the door.  "I think we can agree that it's not normal to wander into a busy intersection at 2:30 in the morning…half undressed…in the rain…asleep". 

            "She's just stressed" Jake muttered.  "She's a homicide detective in one of the murder capitals of the world….go figure."  

            Sympathizing with the detective's defensiveness, the doctor placed her hand on his shoulder.  "I understand Detective, but you need to realize that at best, your partner may have a sleeping disorder,  a very serious and dangerous one."  

            "And at worst?"  he asked, still gazing into the hospital room.  

            The doctor paused before answering.  "Give her some time, she's a little groggy from the meds and will probably sleep for the next few hours.  The Doctor patted Jake's arm again, and then turned away to attend to other patients.  Jake checked his watch it was 4:15 the Doc was right, he should let her sleep, he'd grab a coffee, check the status of the others and come back in couple of hours, she'd want to know by then…about the others.

            She didn't hear him enter the room, but at once felt his presence.  "Sara?" he whispered tentatively, her eyes were closed but he was not sure she was asleep, though her breathing was rhythmic and the room quite silent.  She was in fact awake and responded without opening her eyes.  

            "Go away…Nottingham".  He felt his breath sharply intake at the pain in her voice and surprised himself as his too faltered as he spoke.  

            "You are in pain, my lady…what has happened?"  

            Also surprised at the tone in Ian's voice Sara's eyes fluttered open, searching his face for proof that his concern was false.  Finding none she closed them again and answered. "I…I don't know".  "I was getting ready for bed…brushing my teeth I think…after that, it's all a jumble.  I think I went to bed."  

            "You did my lady."  

            Sara paused at the certainty in his voice.  So he'd been watching her again, surprise surprise.  'Old habits die hard I guess'.  "And then what?" she asked him, curious to know how long he'd stayed on her fire escape.  

            "Unfortunately Sara, I left your sill shortly after you had fallen asleep".  She sighed and then grimaced at the pain it caused her to do so, watching with fascination as her frown was reflected on Nottingham's face.  

            "I do not enjoy seeing you in pain Lady Sara."  

            "Really? she breathed. "Then how about you quit calling me Lady Sara."  She grimaced again as she reached for a glass of water.  

            "As you wish….Sara" Ian replied, and after a short pause urged her to go on.  

            Sara put down the glass of water, briefly flashing on the car's headlights as it careened towards her.  She closed her eyes again, and shook her head.  " I don't know how it happened… how I ended up in the middle of the street…causing that accident.  She began to cry, and it broke Ian's heart.  Not just because it brought him physical pain to see Sara sad, but because he felt ill-equipped to comfort her. He had not a mother to show him how, nor a father that believed it necessary.  His phone rang suddenly and he turned away from her to answer it.  

            "How is she?"  Iron's asked impatiently.  

            "She has sustained minor injuries, various cuts and contusions and a couple of bruised ribs but I believe she will be fine" Ian answered.  Irons sighed with relief and then grunted softly at the pain it caused him to do so.  

            "And to what do we owe this early morning awakening?"  Ian turned back to Sara whose meds had started to kick in, she murmured softly, her eyes closed.  

            "That sir, is still unclear".  

Irons restlessly tapped his long fingers on the table in front of him.  "Very well then Ian, keep me posted".  

Nottingham hung up the phone and turned back to Sara who was almost asleep.  He would not be able to get anymore information from her tonight.  

            "I knew it… Ian…" she muttered suddenly.  He felt his breath catch in his throat at the sound of his first name on her lips.  "You only..." she continued, "You only came for him".


	2. Revelations

Chapter 2: Revelations

            Irons sat in an armchair facing the window in his den.  It was still raining as it had been for the past week.  'Even a man as powerful as myself, is not immune to the sombering effects of consistent rain' he thought.  He bent to pick up his tea, from the table beside him.  His ribs were less sore now, from both the painkillers he had taken and Sara's remarkable ability to recover quickly.

            It had come over him suddenly while he slept, a sudden panic and blinding light followed by excruciating pain at his side.  He knew at once it was the wielder, something tragic had happened to her 'But what?' he thought 'And why?'

            "She was sleepwalking".  

            Ian's entrance and answer to Iron's question actually startled Kenneth, but years of training allowed him to hide that fact.  "I see," he said, softly stroking the scars the blade had given him years before.  "And the blade?"

            "It was active," Ian answered, "she ..tried to hide it from me, but I sens…"  Irons turned towards him and he quickly lowered his head.  "I saw a lack of control, she is having trouble… quieting it"

            "And so perhaps it is controlling her…" Irons turned back to the window, watching the rain.  

            Ian believing this the end of their conversation turned to leave.  "I cannot see what is coming" Irons said quietly, "and it frightens me".  Ian was shocked, Irons had never shown doubt before, even with the head strong Sara Pezzini consistently rebuffing him at his every move.  He had always been confident that in the end he would get what he wanted.  He always did.  

            "I read once father" began Ian, "…that to know the future is to be trapped by it."

            Irons closed his eyes, and nodded slowly.  "A wise sentiment my boy" he said, "…a wise sentiment indeed."

            Sara was on her tiptoes trying to reach the power button on the television when McCarty entered the room.  "Why do they put these things so high anyway?"

            "It's not that high Pez, you're just short."

            She turned towards him and glared.  "I am not short".

            "Come on Pez" he joked "Your like what? Up to here on me." Holding his hand to his waist.

            "Ya right", she scoffed "Didn't I find lifts in your locker, last week?" She gave up on the TV and climbed back into bed.

            Jake laughed. "I'm glad your feeling better Sara"

            "Just barely McCarty, somebody stole my remote, and the nurse told me she'd bring me a paper over an hour ago".

            Jake sat in the chair next to the bed.  "Well, this should make you feel better".  He opened the bag he had brought with him and presented her with a coffee and buttered croissant.

            "All is forgiven Jake" she sighed as she stuffed her mouth.  "You're a life saver"

            Jake grinned.  That was all it took to brighten his day,  a butter smeared smile from his partner.  They were too few and far between over the last couple weeks.  They'd been hit hard at work, and the pissy weather didn't help, not to mention Sara seeming distracted of late… and now this.

            "I need to know Jake" Sara said softly, pulling Jake from his thoughts.  "Everything".  Jake sighed, and pulled the remote control for the television out of his jacket pocket and placed it on the bed.

            "We're LIVE here at the scene of an early morning accident involving 8 cars and a tractor trailer.  Early reports are sketchy at best but it seems that around 3am this morning, a woman wandered into this section of traffic.  A truck attempting to swerve and not hit the woman then crashed into on coming traffic creating the eventual 8 car pile up.  Rescue workers, fireman and police are doing everything possible to get the situation under control.  There is no word yet on how many casualties there have been, though several people were rushed to the hospital, including the woman that was the reported cause of all this.  We'll keep you posted as more information becomes available."

            "Thanks Judy" said the anchor woman "It looks pretty horrible out there, let's hope everyone will be okay. In other news this morning, Police are still stumped over a growing number of deaths over the last couple -!"

            Jake took the remote from her and turned the TV off.  Sara sat quietly staring straight ahead.

            "Pez?"

            "How many?"

            "Listen Pez, none of this is your-!"

            "How many Jake?" she asked again cutting him off.

            "11 Sara… 5 are okay, just minor cuts and bruises, 4 are in ICU," he paused and Sara closed her eyes. "2 are…2 are dead."

            "Oh my god".  She began to cry and Jakes arms immediately went around her.  "What have I done?"

            "It's okay Sara," he said stroking her hair. "It was an accident nobody blames you."

            "I do Jake" she said softly " I do."

            Nottingham watched them from the roof of the building across the street from the hospital.  'Such ease', he thought. 'within Sara's partner.'  He could easily make her angry, but he could also make her smile.  She would not question his motives for being there.  "You only came… for him".  The words played over and over in his head.  They had hurt for sure, but there was something else…something in her voice as she drifted off to sleep. And while it was 'quite unlikely' he reminded himself, it seemed to Ian, that it had been…disappointment.


	3. Enigma

Authors Note: I've begun reading the comic book, (though not from the beginning) and it's a lot different from the television show.  This fiction is more based on the show, though ideas from the book may pop up once in a while and other ideas from the show will be left out. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: The witchblade etc.. belongs to TopCow etc…

Chapter 3: Enigma

            "You're sure you're okay Pez?"

            "Yes Jake I'm fine" Sara replied, stretching out on her couch. "Besides if I wasn't I'm sure Officer Creedy would just relish the chance to barge in here and protect me."

            "Sorry about that Pez, it's just that with all the publicity over the past few days it's better to be safe then sorry right?  Besides he'll keep all those pesky reporters away."

            "True enough."

            "I'll stop by later to check on you."

            "No it's okay really, I'm just going to take a hot bath, and pop a few more of those pain killers I've come to enjoy so much, I won't really be much fun."

            "You Pez, come on."

            "Really Jake I'll be fine, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Okay?"

            "Okay partner."

            Sara hung up the phone and went into the bathroom to run her bath water. She then went into the kitchen and opened the fridge expecting to find leftover Chinese food and beer.  Instead it was fully stocked. 'Damn that Nottingham' she thought 'he'd almost be sweet if he wasn't…wasn't...'  She paused trying to think of the word.  "If he wasn't friggin' Nottingham," she said aloud, slamming the fridge door.  She stepped away from the fridge slowly.  'Still' she thought 'if he'd bought her favourite ice cream, maybe all could be forgiven'.  Hesitantly she opened the freezer…

            Sinking deep into the tub, her tummy fully satisfied with "candy cane crackle" her thoughts again drifted to Ian.  What was it with that smug, riddle talking henchman? Why was he always popping up and watching her?  What was it that him and his boss Irons really wanted with her and why wouldn't they just come out and say it?  She glanced over at the witchblade sitting on a towel on top of the closed toilet seat.  'No' she thought, 'smug was not the word to describe Nottingham.  In fact he seemed nervous and rather unsure of himself whenever he was around her.' 

Her eyes begin to close and she felt she was about to nod off, reaching for the pills and glass of water on the floor beside the tub, she opened the container and swallowed a few.  They were not the painkillers she had told Jake about, she didn't really need them anymore, she was doing a lot better… physically anyway.  They were caffeine pills so that she wouldn't sleep.  She didn't want to doze off and risk killing anyone else.  The word "killing" rang inside her head, and she felt her eyes burn with tears.  The crash had been ruled an accident but she wasn't about to argue over semantics, in her mind she had killed two people.  By wandering into the street asleep, she had caused an accident that claimed two lives.   

            It had been happening for couple of weeks, the sleepwalking.  She'd wake up in the kitchen stuffing her face, or sitting in front of the computer, typing unreadable passages. Once she found herself sitting in the shower, fully clothed and soaking wet, but could not remember how she got there.  None of this compared to what happened last week though.  She had actually left her apartment still asleep.  She closed her eyes, trying to block it out.  What was happening to her, was she losing her mind?

            He was standing by the window, when she came out of the bathroom, staring out at who knows what.  "Go away Nottingham" she said a little wearily.

            "Good evening Sara" he answered without turning around.

            "What do you want?" she asked, making her way over to her couch. "Is your boss still worried about me?"

            "He is forever vigilant in his concern for you Sara, but that is not why I am here."

            "Really?" she called from the couch disbelieving him.  She sat up a bit and looked over in his direction "So then enlighten me Nottingham as to the oh so important reason for your presence."

            He paused for a moment before answering and when he did it was almost too quiet for Sara to hear.  "I have missed you… Sara."

            His response caught her off guard and she sat up a little faster then she anticipated and was instantly wracked with pain.  He was at her side in seconds.  "It's okay Nottingham," she breathed. "I'm okay really."

            "Let me see" he demanded rather then asked.  She found herself acquiescing and raised her right arm obediently.  He removed his left glove and raised her shirt.  Her ribs were still purple and blue and he gently ran his fingers over them.

            "It is not difficult to fracture bruised ribs my lady, you must be more careful".

            Still reeling from the pain in her side and the unexpected rush she received at Nottingham's touch her answer came only as a whisper.  "Will do."  The witchblade swirled on her wrist, and she became suddenly aware of the closeness of Nottingham.  She took his left hand in hers subconsciously rubbing her thumb across his palm.  "Why do you always wear those gloves Nottingham?"

            Temporarily seduced by her hand against his, he shook his head before answering.  "They are useful…in my line of work my lady."

            She leaned back on the couch still holding his hand.  "And which line is that? Henchman? Assassin?…Protector of the wielder?

            "All of the above lady Sara" he answered with a smile.

            It was his eyes that made him beautiful she concluded.  His face was handsome for sure, and the soft ringlets of blonde kissed brown hair only added to his attractiveness.  But the eyes were truly beautiful, so full of the emotion he denied the rest of himself to express, except of course in unguarded moments.

            "You seem tired, perhaps you should sleep".

            Sara's eyes snapped open at the mention of sleep and she quickly sat up again.

"No!" she said quite forcefully. "I'm not tired".  Noticing the look in Ian's eyes she added more softly "Really I could go all night".  She smiled at him and his heart leapt.  It was a weak smile to be sure, she was obviously exhausted, but it was genuine and therefore precious.  The witchblade continued to swirl on Sara's wrist, and she felt a familiar heat on the back of her neck.

"Aren't you hot in that jacket Nottingham?  She had let go of his hand and now reached for her glass of coke on the coffee table.  "You can take it off if you'd like.  Unless of course you need to run back and report to Irons?"  She regretted it the moment she said it and of course the effect was instant.  He hadn't moved and yet she could feel he had pulled away from her.  "Even though it's a loft space, it does tend to get quite hot in here" she said quickly.

            "Your concern for my comfort is quite touching Sara" Ian responded sadly.

            "Sometimes" she said quietly "it is easier to be the me that I am, then me I would like to be."  Ian understood, this was her way of apologizing and to show he had accepted it he removed his coat and sat back on the couch a short distance from her.  He was clothed in black of course, as usual, but what was unusual was the extent to which she noticed.  His black dress shirt fit him snugly, tight in all the right places.  His collar was open, the top button undone allowing her a glimpse of the muscled chest beneath it.  'Of course it was muscled' she thought, a henchman needed to be strong.  He had removed his other glove along with his jacket and she stared fascinated at his bare hands.  They were manly hands of course, strong yet soft to the touch.  'Of course they'd be strong' she mused, 'an assassin may have to rely on his own strength should his weapons fail him.'  She tried to remind herself of the dangers of this man, but something kept pushing them away. The heat was building on the back of her neck and was spreading from her wrist as well. 'It's you doing this to me isn't it' she thought furiously at the blade 'it has to be'.  She looked up from her wrist to Ian unsure of how to break the uneasy silence that had fallen between them, but all she could think about was that soft beard of his rubbing against her neck…and chest and...stomach.  Luckily for her he spoke first…

            "Would you feel better lady Sara, if I joined you in the sac?"


	4. Dreaming

A/N (look at me I'm abbreviating): Thanks for the reviews.  This is my first fan fiction, normally I'm writing scripts (which probably explains my horrible formatting and lack of proper paragraphs) I've read a lot of the other witchblade fictions and everyone's really good.  I just hope I can keep up ;p

BTW: There's a little sexual content in this chapter but it's by no means explicit.  Just fair warning though since I've temporarily changed my rating.

Disclaimer: The witchblade etc.. belongs to TopCow etc…

Chapter 4: Dreaming

            "What?" exclaimed Sara somewhat breathlessly.

            "I said would you feel better lady Sara with another pillow behind your back?"

            Sara blinked a few times and fought to regain her composure.  "Oh uh sure..okay" she stammered. Nottingham pulled the pillow from beside him and leaned over her.  She leaned forward a bit and he placed the pillow behind her back.  A few strands of his hair fell forward from where he had tucked them behind his ear and brushed against her cheek.  Instinctively she reached up and returned them to their place.  He froze at the simple gesture, his face just inches above hers.  

            'Had he been a worldly man' he thought 'or even a braver one' he might have kissed her then.  But unfortunately he was neither and the realization of that fact disgusted him.  He would not have been able to handle the rejection, not from her.  He returned to his seat.  "Why are you not sleeping lady Sara?"

            It took all her effort to concentrate on what he was saying, especially with the witchblade heating up her wrist.  She pulled her shirt down over it and tried to relax.  "I'm afraid" she answered truthfully.

            "Afraid of what?"

            She looked over at him again, wondering why he cared.  Was he really interested? Or just gathering information for Irons?  

            "_When the time comes to decide… you will know_" a voice whispered.  After considering this for moment… she gave in.  She told him about the sleepwalking, and the missing time, about the lack of control and strange dreams. And he listened quietly and intently without saying a word.  When she got to the accident she began to cry, she could not accept that she had ended two lives so needlessly.  It was like a sharp pain in her chest that refused to go away.  Surprising her and even himself Ian placed his arms around her as she cried. He may have missed a few lessons, but that didn't mean he was a slow learner.  Observing Jake and her in the hospital room last week had shown him what to do, and there was nothing in the world more pleasant than the feel of Sara's head against his chest and her arm around his waist.

            After her sobs had quieted down for a while he spoke.  "You must sleep Sara…if you are to heal."

            "I can't" she said quietly.

            "I will not leave you my lady, you are safe"

            The witchblade quieted a little as if to echo Ian's sentiment.  "Maybe…" she started, "maybe just for a few minutes."  Within moments she was fast asleep cradled in Nottingham's arms.  And for the first time in a very long time Ian felt the restlessness that was a constant companion to his soul fade back into nothingness.

            It was only a couple of hours later when he awoke.  He had not even realized he had fallen asleep till he glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed the time.  'Some protector' he thought as a sudden wave of pleasure rolled over him.  This is what had awoken him he realized a female hand distinctly caressing his thigh.  She lay on top of him, tendrils of her hair just under his nose.  They smelt of honey and almond, no doubt from the bath she had taken earlier. She shifted slightly and nuzzled her face into his neck, the pressure on his thigh increasing.  He could feel her breathing quicken as her chest pressed against his, her murmurs lost in the folds of his neck.

He was still sleeping he concluded, for this was surely a dream. The real Sara would never…  His thoughts were interrupted again as she shifted her hips over his and began to slowly grind against him. He stifled a moan as he closed his eyes.  'What exactly was going on here?' he wondered trying desperately to order his thoughts as she gently kissed and sucked on his neck, playfully tugging on his ear with her teeth. She sat up slowly, drawing her fingers across his chest.

            "Isn't this what you wanted?" she asked, her voice low and husky with desire.  'There was something else as well' Ian thought, 'just underneath'  "_Isn't this what you've been dreaming about?_"

            He grabbed her wrist then, as he realized what it was.  "No," Ian said struggling to catch his breath, "not like this…not from you"

            The witchblade swirled and seemed to laugh, and Sara too laughed at Ian's response.  "We are one…_we are one… caiomheach_" Sara said. The witchblade echoing after her.

            "No" Ian said calmly and let go of her wrist, "it would appear not."

            Sara seemed to sulk at his retort. She slid off his lap and retreated to her side of the couch.  "_Let's hope dear Nottingham, that your dreams will be enough_."

            "Necessity, fair lady makes even the unlikely possible."

            The witchblade churned and then went silent and Sara returned to her slumber.  Ian painfully detangled himself from her sleeping form, and covered her with the throw that lay over the back of the couch.  She would not know of the agony she had put him through, the sheer strength of will it had taken him to push her away.  'Still' he thought, 'perhaps it had been worth it. If he had not the answers to Sara's problem he at least now knew of the right questions.'

            Irons awoke covered in sweat. He had been dreaming, he surmised and it had been intense.  He was a bit surprised since he hadn't dreamt in a very long time. Years ago he had studied techniques that allowed him to enter a state below consciousness as he slept,  it kept the nightmares away from his contact with the witchblade.  He swung himself out of bed and went over to the window.  Something had not let him relax,  kept him from the dreamless state…something Ian had said. 

            "To know the future is to be trapped by it."  This had been the reason he had dreamt.  He struggled to remember it but it had already begun to fade away.  He was sure of one thing though, it had been about Sara.

            Perhaps if the resemblance had been less than perfect he would have already achieved success.  But as fate would have it Sara Pezzini was a complete recreation of Elizabeth right down to the open contempt she held for him.  But he had changed Elizabeth's mind …eventually and she in turn had changed him.  'Only love can truly change a man,' he thought bitterly, 'love and hate'. She had inspired both.

            "To know the future is to be trapped by it" echoed again in Kenneth's mind.  He had seen his future, in his brief contact with the blade.  The price he would pay for his sacrilege.  This is what he was so desperately trying to prevent.  He only needed to persuade it…to change it's mind-!  He stopped there… surprised at his thoughts, never had he openly admitted even to himself the real reason he desired the witchblade.  Power over man was simple, this he already possessed, power over fate was another thing altogether.  He could not let this chance slip away, he no longer had the time to wait.


	5. Tests

A/N: Thanks for all the encouraging reviews, they keep me writing instead of watching TV, answering email, paying bills, prowling for boys…

Disclaimer: The witchblade etc.. belongs to TopCow etc…

Chapter 5: Tests

            Detective Jake McCarty flashed his badge to the perimeter officer and then stepped over the hazard tape to enter the crime scene.

            "Nine days straight McCarty must be some sorta record" remarked Officer Barclay who was standing by the wall waiting for him.

            "I don't think so Barclay" Jake answered"  I think you mighta went for twelve back in 87'

            "That so?  Well it's better than snow I guess, right?"

            "Where's the body?" Jake asked

            "Just through here."  He led Jake into an alley.  "The owners of the coffee shop next door found 'em while they were putting out the trash."  Jake kneeled by the body as Officer Barclay whistled.  "Talk about your eye opener huh?"

            The body was nude, and devoid of any markings.  No bruising or lacerations, except of course that his eyes were missing.  The autopsy would no doubt reveal the cause of death to be a blunt force trauma to the head..

            "So how many does this make Detective 7? 8?"

            "Nine," Jake answered standing up slowly, "looks like someone might be goin' after some sorta record after all."

            Sara awoke on the couch alone.  It was still raining, she could hear it against the windows.  It was early she figured as she strained to see the clock on the wall, just past 6.00.  She glanced quickly around the room but Ian was nowhere to be found, and his side of the couch was cold.  'So he had left' she thought angrily 'even though he said he would stay'.

"Typical!" she said aloud.  "When I don't want you around you won't leave me alone, but when I actually need you you're.."

            "Waiting in the shadows lady Sara" said Ian quietly from somewhere behind her.  Sara propped herself up to look over the back of the couch and there he was leaning quietly against it.  "You need only look behind you Sara, I will always be there."

            "Morning" she said rather sheepishly.  "I don't suppose you slept all that well."

            He had his gloves on again she noticed, though his coat was still off and folded neatly on the floor beside him.  He looked up at her.  "For the short time that I did sleep Sara, it was quite pleasant."

            Something passed in front of his eyes just then, though she wasn't quite sure what it was, heat she'd say if she was to hazard a guess. Extreme heat.  She lowered herself back on to the couch in an attempt to escape his gaze.  "I'm glad..Ian." she said laying her head against the arm of the couch.

            "And you Sara, did you sleep well?"

            Sara flashed back to a very vivid dream, and blushed.  "Yes, I slept very well.  Thank you…for staying with me."

            "There are few things Sara I would not do for you" Ian replied.

            "Ya," she said softly, "I'm starting to gather that ."

            Jake finished his coffee and yawned excessively, before heading down to see Vicky.  He hated early mornings, 'why couldn't these psycho's do their killing during regular business hours?' he thought wearily.  It wasn't difficult to see how all this had finally gotten to Pez, she'd been here a lot longer than he had and he already felt like he was perpetually sleepwalking.  'Still,' he thought, 'if he'd been asked to place a bet, he'd of bet against her cracking, the woman was like the energizer bunny, she just wouldn't go down.  Or least so he'd thought.  He checked his reflection in the glass before he entered the medical examiner's room.  It wasn't like he had a crush on Vicky or anything, but there was nothing wrong with being told you were cute.

            "You son of a bitch,"  Vicky said through gritted teeth as Jake entered the office.

            "Hey now Vicky, that's not happiness to see me." Jake said looking all wounded.

            "No it isn't McCarty, it's the attitude of a person whose been working for 18 hours straight and just wants to go home and get some shut eye."  She rubbed her temples as if to reinforce her point.  "You could have waited" she said impatiently, "Kilby's on in an hour."

            "Ya well, I guess I just wanted your special touch" Jake said and flashed her a 100 watt smile.  Vicky pouted and led McCarty into the examining room.  "It's the downside of being one of the good guys Vic, lot's of over time, little pay."

            "Right" she said turning on the light over the examining table.  They both looked down at the body.  "You were right obviously, it's the same M.O as the others.  No external markings, besides the eyes which seemed to have been burned out with some extreme heat source, no bruising, no cuts, nada.  I haven't received the tox screen back yet but I'm betting it's negative."

            "So we're back to square one, we've got nothing."

            "Not exactly," Vicky said moving the light so that it shone near the victim's heel.

            "What's that? " asked Jake.

            "Paint" said Vicky, "Ordinary house paint, in an ordinary brown, give me another half hour and I'll give you the brand and factory number."

            "What am I supposed to do with house paint Vicky?"

            "How should I know McCarty, I'm a doctor not a detective, that's your job."  She shooed him out of the room.  "Go..hunt…detect."

            As Jake got to the door he turned around and said "You've been waiting to use that doctor line for a while now haven't you?"

            "You have no idea" Vicky said grinning, "Now scoot."

            Sara handed Ian a cup of coffee from across the table and then poured one for herself.  He waited she noticed till she had taken a sip first before he had tasted it.  Probably some training instilled by that psycho boss of his…the head dog always eats first and such.

            "He isn't missing you?" she asked tentatively.

            Ian shook his head.  "Not exactly" he replied "he does not rise before 7, he will not know I am absent till shortly after that."

            Sara frowned.  "It's a leash Ian," she said suddenly. He looked at her strangely not sure of what she meant.

            "This discipline and fear he holds over you."

            "Perhaps" answered Ian "but I fear it is unbreakable."

            "You can't really mean that, I mean you are your own man.  Aren't you?" she asked hesitantly.

            Ian paused before answering.  "Yes, I suppose…somehow…" he took his time before finishing, "but I am also very much my father's son.  He is the man who has raised, trained and looked out for me, I am nothing but what he has created."  Sara placed her hand on his shoulder and Ian bowed his head.  Dealing with the compassionate side of Sara was as difficult as dealing with her when she was cold.  He was at a constant indecision of what to say and what to do.  At least when she was angry he could be relatively sure of what to expect. A glare, a frown or quick retort. "Freak"  echoed in Ian's mind and he quickly stood up.

            "I suppose you should go" she said "it's almost 7."  He nodded and put on his coat as he headed toward the window.  "You know you could use the door Nottingham" she called over to him.

            "I would not like to leave Officer Creedy with a complex about his ability to do his job."

            She looked over towards the stairs, she'd forgotten all about the posted guard.  "Well do you want an umbrell-?" she stopped as she looked back realizing he was already gone.

            'One day out and I'm back in the box', she thought.   The nurse placed the electrodes on her temples, then gave her a reassuring smile before she left.  Sara stared around the brightly lit room.  'Well they better have a way to dim those lights, if they expect me to be able to sleep,' she thought angrily looking at her reflection in the two way mirrors that surrounded the room.  She was getting antsy, and so was the witchblade.  If the tingling sensation growing on her wrist was any indication, the blade didn't like being cooped up in confined spaces either.  She stepped over to the examining table they had the nerve to call a bed and hoisted herself up on to it.  'Beds weren't 4 feet of the ground, and they usually didn't come equipped with straps' she noted, fingering the buckles on the edge of the table.  Still she had no choice Dante had made that very clear.

            "I really don't give a damn what you think Petzinni,  just 'cause we were able to keep the sleepwalking part out of the papers doesn't mean I've forgotten.  People get stressed out sure, but it ain't normal to take down an intersection when you do."  Sara glared at him, not quite sure what to say that wouldn't get her canned on the spot.  "You're a police officer babe," he ground out, "your supposed to be saving lives, not taking them."  Sara felt like she'd been punched in the gut, she bit her lip to keep from screaming.  "You pass this sleep evaluation and what ever other psych tests they set up for you and we'll talk about getting you reinstated, till then I don't want to see your face, or hear your name…"  He began to walk away from her. "No references, jokes, limericks, or inferences to you at all."

            'Son of a bitch,' Sara thought. 'He would have loved to have fired her on the spot.  But that would mean admitting that she had done something wrong, that it might have been more then an accident.   An over-worked under-paid detective driven to the brink of insanity by her job.  She almost smiled at the thought.  The only thing Dante cared more about than his own ass, was his departments.  She'd be reinstated, when she passed all the tests.'  The witchblade glowed on her wrist, and she was suddenly filled with an overwhelming fear.  'At least she hoped she pass.'


	6. Oblique

A/N: I just love any opportunity to borrow from "The Simpsons".  Can you spot the quote?

Disclaimer: The witchblade etc.. belongs to TopCow etc…

Chapter 6: Oblique

            Ian entered Iron's home office to find Dr. Immo examining the bruises on Kenneth's side.

            "Ah, Ian and where have you been keeping yourself?" he asked, not bothering to raise his head from the report he was reading.

            "I was in the study."

            "Since last night?"

            Immo prodded a little too hard, and Kenneth let out a very undignified whelp.  "Careful doctor," he breathed, "or I might be inclined to bite back."

            "How is this possible?" asked Ian, carefully changing the subject.  "I thought that after the periculum-"

            "My link to the wielder had been lessened if not severed?" Irons interrupted.  "Yes Ian, I had thought so too."  Dr. Immo finished his examination and Irons began to redo the buttons on his shirt.  "It would seem," he said "that the witchblade has not yet finished with me."  

            Ian stood there for a few minutes not saying anything. He was not sure how to bring up what he had learned last night without explaining his whereabouts.  Dr. Immo packed up his equipment and excused himself and Kenneth returned to his report.  After a short period of silence had passed Irons spoke.

            "Well what is it Ian? Or am I to believe you are waiting to be dismissed?"

            Ian struggled for the words.  "I have…discovered something."

            "Is that so?" Kenneth said plainly, "In the study?"

            "About the witchblade."

            "Truly?" Kenneth mocked.  "Pray tell."

            Ian paused, he could hear the thinly veiled anger in his father's voice; it was obvious he was aware that he had not spent last night at home.  "It seems to be…acting independently."  Kenneth looked up at Ian waiting silently for him to continue.  "Sara is experiencing missing time," he said quickly, "and I've come to believe that during these…blackouts the witchblade is controlling her."

            "To what end?"

            "I do not profess to kn-!"

            "You do not profess to know?!" Kenneth interrupted, raising his voice just a notch.  "And yet some how you have been able to deduce all this; and from the confines of the study no less."  Ian stared at his feet, mentally counting backwards to control the fear that was building in the pit of his stomach.  Kenneth rose from his desk and came to stand in front of him.  He placed his finger under Ian's chin and raised his head.  Cold blue eyes bore sharply into brown ones.

            "There are few things in this world that I fear Ian, and even fewer that fill me with doubt."  He let go of Ian's chin and turned to leave the room.  "Do not make your allegiance one of them."

            'That boy,' thought Kenneth as he walked towards the dining room 'he was becoming quite perplexing.'   "Never have children" he said suddenly to the maid attempting to scurry by him unnoticed.

            "Y..Yes sir Mr. Irons" she said quietly and doubled her speed.

            He'd had a mine to punish him, had his side been healed.   And had he remembered not to look directly into his eyes.  'He'd have been inhuman if that kicked puppy look Ian so often displayed didn't effect him' he thought bitterly.  He entered the dining room and took his seat at the head of the table.  It was the downside of instilling fear in a child.  If they feared you enough they might lie to avoid punishment.  Ian wasn't stupid enough to lie, but he had learned at a very young age that it might work to his advantage to be sparse with the truth.

            "Good evening Mr. Irons" said a servant, laying a napkin across his lap.  "May I start you off with some wine."

            "Yes please, what do you recommend?"

            "Well sir, we have just received a few cases of Petrus that is simply…I mean I've heard that it is simply… flawless."

            "Yes" said Kenneth unimpressed. "whatever, just bring a lot of it, I've had a-"  He stopped suddenly, and broke into a short laugh.  He stood and turned to the servant placing his hands on the startled man's shoulders.  "Had I been an overly generous man" he said, "I might have thanked you for the brilliance you have just inspired in me. Nevertheless," he said as he turned to leave, "the fact that I don't have your hands removed for stealing from my wine cellar, will have to suffice."  The servant gulped.  "I don't suppose I need to tell you the consequences of me seeing you again" he called as he left the room.

            "Hey Pez, you awake?"

            Sara opened her eyes and looked into the upside down face of her partner hovering above her.  "Just resting my eyes Jake" she said, sitting up.  "I mean who could sleep in this leftover set from Alien? I keep waiting for one of those face huggers to jump up and give me kiss."

            Jake laughed. "Will you settle for one from me?" he asked puckering up.

            "Eww gross," she said pushing him away, "I'll take my chances with the alien."

            "Oh ya," he wined, "well my mom says I'm handsome". He checked himself out in the reflection of the two-way mirror flashing his Colgate smile.

            Sara sneered.  "Ya well I'm sure she also told you about the Easter bunny McCarty."

            "Man I've missed you Pezzini," he said sarcastically, "it's been like 3 days since someone called me a loser."  She took the file folder from his hand.  "Or a putz, or a dumb blonde," he continued, "or useless."  She flipped it open and saw that another murder had been committed in the same M.O of the ones her and Jake had been investigating.  "Or that my breath smells or that my clothes suck or that I'm wet behind the ears"

            "Alright, alright," she interrupted "I get it.  What's up with the case?"

            Jake beamed "We've finally got a lead."  He pulled a group of photographs from the back of the folder and laid them out on the bed.  "It all started, when Vicky found paint on the heel of the last victim." He pointed to the photo of the dead man's foot.  "I went back to investigate the scene further, and that's when I found it."

            "Found what?"

            "The rune."

            "The what?" asked Sara not quite following.

            He pointed at another photograph and pulled a piece of paper out his pocket.  "Someone painted an ancient rune underneath the body.  It translates to…"  he looked at the piece of paper."

            "War" the witchblade whispered and Sara echoed.

            "Ya that's it" said McCarty, how'd you know, I had to look it up on the internet."  Sara didn't answer.  "Anyway after I discovered that one, I got a team to go back and re-photograph and test the previous crimes scenes.  I mean I know it's been raining a lot but Vicky assures me that we should be able to find some sort of residue if the paint was able to dry even a little bit.  Cool huh?"

            Sara stared at the rune in the photograph and was suddenly pulled into a vision from the witchblade.  A man in a dark robe, chanted quietly to himself in the attic of what seemed to be an old church.  Sara strained to see the man's face, or at least what it was he held in his hand, but it seemed just then that he realized he was being spied on and quickly raised his hand, throwing Sara out of the vision.

            "You alright Pez?" Jake asked, a puzzled look on his face.  "I mean I was just kidding about the whole kiss thing you know."  She shook her head and realized she was holding tightly onto Jakes arm.  She quickly let go and took a couple steps away from him.  "But hey if you want to get closer I mean-!"  Sara shot him a look that just dared him to finish that statement.  "Alright, Alright" he said in mock defense, putting all the photos back into the file folder.  "Well I know it's not much," he continued "but at least it's something to go on right?"

            "It's great Jake really," Sara said.  "'Especially since we've had nothing up to now."  Jake nodded.  Sara smiled. "Good work partner"

            "Hey I learned from the best."

            "True," she conceded.

            A nurse entered the room,  "I'm Sorry Detective, but it time for Ms. Pezzini to get some sleep."

            Jake looked at his watch, "Ya I've gotta be leaving anyway."  He turned to Sara.  "So how are the tests going?"  

            Sara shrugged.  "Well so far I've deciphered ink blots, delved into my unhappy childhood, and drawn a picture of my feelings."  She held up a brightly coloured picture of a house and family. "This happy character is the sun" she said pointing at the yellow smiley face in the corner, "he shines down on the house."

            "I'll put it on my fridge" said Jake taking it from her.

            "Oh wait first let me sign it" she said, grabbing a pencil crayon off her tablet and scribbling something along the bottom of the drawing."

            "Thanks Pez" said Jake as he was escorted from the room,  "I'll talk to you tomorrow."  Sara waved, hoping Jake would get the message.


	7. Angel tears

A/N:  So after some serious soul searching (about half an hour) I've decided to include the angel.  Now I'm not the biggest Gabriel fan or anything, but if I only wrote about the characters I loved then the whole story would be about Ian and Sara and a queen sized bed… 

BTW: I made a little change in Chapter 5.  Originally I couldn't remember which episode it was when Sara found out that Ian was Irons son.  But it's all come back to me now thanks to Captain High liner (they say fish is good brain food you know) and so I took out the part about her being shocked.  You don't have to go back and re-read it or anything I just wanted to let you know.

Disclaimer: The witchblade etc.. belongs to TopCow etc…

Chapter 7: Angel tears

            Gabriel sat quietly at the bar nursing his beer.  He looked around the rather empty establishment and sighed. 'He'd really half to start making some changes in his life,' he thought,  'that was if he ever planned on getting laid again.'

            "Hey Gabe," came a voice from behind him.  His friend Walter sat in the empty seat next to him.

            "Heya Wally?"

            "What did I tell you about calling me that?" said Walter rather anxiously.

            "Right right… Walter" Gabe apologized.

            "Exactly Gabri-ella, it's either Walter or-!"

            "I know I know… "The Wall."

            "That's right," he said, motioning for the bartender.

            "It's certainly something…" Gabriel mumbled.

            "Don't even sweat it Gabe, I'm not even gonna let your persistent cloud of gloom, ruin this pretty close to perfect day."

            Gabriel unwrapped his lips from around his beer bottle. "Why what happened?" 

            The bartender came over and flashed them a smile.  "So what can I get you tonight Walter?"

            "Macy, I'm gonna need you to run on down to the basement and dust off one of those bottles of champagne you got hiding down there for special occasions."  He pulled out his wallet and dropped a couple of hundred dollar bills on the counter."

            "Sure thing sweets" Macy drawled, sweeping up the money as she left.

            "Hey hey big spender what's the occasion?"

            "Gabriel my man, I just made the sale of a life time."

            'She was aware of him' he thought, 'he had erred.' He moved slowly across the attic floor. 'A temporary moment of weakness and she had exploited it well.'  This was the weakness of the flesh, the allowing for distraction.  He looked out across the city drenched in rainfall.  It is said, that it once rained for 40 days and nights.  That God, having looked upon the earth he bore his very soul in creating, wept openly for the affliction of man.  'She would come for him tonight' he concluded, 'vigilant and unafraid.'  And though this meeting was earlier then he had planned she would find more then she had bargained for.'  He looked down at the green gem he held in his hand.  "There are not enough tears in heaven to mourn what is coming."

            Irons typed quickly on the lab keyboard, the terminal operator having been banished to the corner for his "Slowness" and "Ineptitude."  "Ah" exclaimed Kenneth, "there it is."  He pulled up a file that created a three dimensional diagram of the witchblade.  Motioning the operator back to the computer Irons pointed to the screen.  "I need you to run a complete and thorough scan of the jewel inside this bracelet."

            "Yes sir Mr. Irons..right away."

            "When you have finished contact me immediately I will be in my office."

            The operator nodded.  "Is there anything I am supposed to be looking for… I mean specifically."  His voice faltered under Kenneth's icy stare.

            "Trust me good man, you'll know it when you find it."

            "Yes sir." He turned back to the terminal and Iron's pulled out his cell phone.

            "Ian" he said when the call had gone through "I need you to bring something to me."

            Sara lay restlessly in the dark, she wasn't sure if Jake had gotten her message, and she wasn't sure how she was going to explain her "hunch" to him if he did.  Her thoughts returned to the man in her vision, he had sensed her or the witchblade anyway and he'd been able to effectively end transmission.  She'd been trying to use the blade to probe him again for the last couple of hours but it had been fruitless, whoever this guy was he was able to hide himself from her completely.  She knew this should worry her, but she couldn't help feel a sense of anticipation.  There was some pent up frustration she was just spoiling to unleash in the form of a big metal fist.  The witchblade swirled in agreement.  She heard the door open behind her and quickly sat up.

            "Time for early check out Pezzini" whispered Jake.

            "Geez McCarty you took long enough, I thought for sure you must be illiterate or something," she said scrambling off the bed.

            "Excuse me? You're the one who spelt escape with two p's" he accused, handing her a bag of clothes.

            "I did not."

            "Hey, the evidence is on the precinct fridge, we can check it out later."

            "You didn't?"

            Jake tossed her a holster and a very large grin.  "You'll just have to wait and see" he said handing her a gun.

            "Ya maybe if I passed this sleep exam" she pointed out rather grimly.

            "Already taken care of" Jake said as they exited the room.  He waved over at the guy monitoring Sara's signals and was greeted with a thumbs up.  "As long as your back by seven no one will even know you were gone."  Sara was impressed.  "And" Jake continued, "my new buddy Josh over there promised to dub an old tape for you so you're sure to pass with flying colours"

            "What'd that cost you?" Sara asked as she slipped out the emergency exit.

            "50 bucks" he said following her out.

            "That's it?"

            "Uh huh, Oh ya and by the way what are you doing next Friday night?"

            There was a short list of things that could instantly brighten Gabriel's mood and 'Champagne' he decided with a smile 'had just moved to the top of it'.  He took another mouthful of the bubbly elixir and swallowed.  The previously reigning champ on that list had interestingly enough been the cause for his foul mood.  Detective Pezzini had been having it rough as of late and he wasn't sure there was anything he could do to help her.  The media had been having a field day with the accident.  And while they weren't exactly crucifying her or showing shots of burning effigies, they were enjoying raking the NYPD over the coals; pointing out the high stress environment these departments were creating for it's employees. Some women's groups had even gotten involved railing on the hardships of being a female detective in an "oppressive male industry".  He imagined Sara's comment on that subject and smiled.  Still, none of this was worse than what Sara had been doing to herself.  He'd visited her in the hospital, and she hadn't exactly been at her best. If stress was the number one unseen killer, guilt had to be number two.

            "Watcha thinking about there Gabe?" Walter asked, noting he'd sorta zoned out there for a minute.

            "Nothin" said Gabriel watching with some amusement as a much older lady danced alone to the house band.  "Remind me again why we keep coming here?"

            "Patronage man," Walter laughed, "this is the only place in the city that would serve us beer back when we weren't exactly legal remember."   

            "Oh ya that's right.  Gabriel nodded, "So tell me about this deal of lifetime. Wally..ter."

            Walter put down his glass and just beamed.  "Do you remember that silver chain I bought off ebay a few years back? The Cerberus chain?"

            Gabriel laughed, "How could I forget?" he ribbed.  "I mean the supposed fabled chain that held the great Cerberus to his post in hell, thought to be unbreakable by mortal hands."  Walter rolled his eyes.  "Forged through a forgotten method from a never before seen and mind you never seen again alloy.  Available through ebay for the unbeatable price of $500 dollars."

            "Okay okay, so it was pretty unlikely."

            "Ya I'll say."

            "And yes it did spend the last couple of years sitting in a box in my mom's garage, thus ending my career in Antiquities and leading me to my true calling."

            "Big surprise there" said Gabriel pouring himself another glass of champagne.  "Didn't it turn out to be only a couple of links of chain?"

            "Ya, it was a bust all around" agreed Walter "That is up until two weeks ago."

            "What do you mean?"

            "I sold it Gabe, I just finished the transaction today."

            "You're kidding me"

            "Nope."

            "You didn't tell them it was.."

            "I actually told the truth, and he wanted it anyway.  I mean he contacted me I'd almost forgot I even had it."

            Gabriel shook his head.  "I can't believe it."

            "What you won't believe is how much I sold it for," said Walter lowering his voice.

            "How much?"

            "5 grand."

            Gabriel suddenly felt his heart began to race and tiny beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead, it of course had less to do with price Walter had gotten for the chain and a lot more to do with large black clothed man walking towards him, and the gleam of open hostility in his eyes.

            "Mr. Bowman" Ian interrupted, "My master has need of you."


	8. Concourse

Chapter 8: Concourse

            Gabriel sat quietly in the passenger seat of Ian's car. 'It was like getting into a vacuum' he thought, completely silent except for the occasional squeak of the windshield wipers.  He glanced over at Ian nervously, 'Did the man even breathe? Maybe he wasn't human, maybe he was some sort of cyborg with a very basic personality program.'  Gabriel looked out his window, 'That might explain the gloves' he thought 'and the general lack of emotion.  Nottingham reached over to open the glove compartment and Gabriel let out a sound that was quite reminiscent of a little girl.  Ian removed a cd and placed it into the car stereo, he then gave Gabriel a look that Gabe was quite sure classified as disgust.  'Maybe' Gabriel thought with some embarrassment 'I had a little too much champagne.' 

            "You can't really blame me," he said after a few moments had passed.  I mean the last time we met you weren't exactly...how shall I put it? Concerned with my well being."

            "I can assure you Mr. Bowman, that if I intended you any harm, I would have already inflicted it."

            "Ya well somehow that doesn't really make me feel better you know."

            Ian paused briefly before saying quietly, "I apologize for your discomfort."

            Gabriel glanced over at Nottingham, detecting a hint of sadness in his voice.  His face of course was a mask and gave no indication of the emotion he had just let slip.  He drummed his fingers lightly on the steering wheel to the classical music that came softly from the speakers.

            "Bach?" Gabriel mused, "I wouldn't have pegged you for the type."  Ian did not answer and Gabriel returned his gaze to the window.

            Kenneth sat solitary in his office, his statuesque appearance hiding the growing excitement inside of him.  Every myth, story and legend had its variations, things that were interpreted differently or changed as they were passed down through time.  It could be quite difficult to decipher which of these facts held any truth and which were purely fiction. Still, it was important for any historian to acquaint himself with all versions and variations, even those that were largely thought of as incorrect, because you just never knew when they might come in handy.  The phone on his desk rang sharply.

            "Hello Mr. Irons?"

            "Yes, what is it?

            "I think I found it sir, what you were looking for in the gem."

            "Please elaborate."

            "Well sir, the jewel, it's uh, somewhat…flawed."

            "Excellent" said Kenneth rising from his chair.  "I'll be there shortly."

            'History was so often written by the winners,' Kenneth thought as he headed out of his office, 'and it now seemed that in regards to the witchblade he had not lost just yet.'

            "So tell me again how you know this is the place," Jake asked checking his weapon one final time.  Sara looked up at the abandoned church and felt the witchblade tingle on her arm.

            "Something I remembered Jake…when you showed me the photographs."  Jake shook his head, 'Vague as usual.'  If he'd been inclined to give it much thought, he might have been a little freaked out by Pezzini's 'hunches'.  Instead he had learned to give her the benefit of the doubt, she had a sixth sense or something, and it had an excellent track record.  They entered the church from the back and then split up.  Sara wasn't sure what they were up against and she preferred running into it first.  Jake wandered cautiously down a dark hallway his weapon in one hand and a flashlight in the other.  He hoped there wouldn't be rats, he had an unnatural fear of rats, it was a childhood thing that he didn't even want to remember and he'd heard that in New York they could be the size of small cats.  He shuddered at the thought as he entered the main service room.  It was huge, and decorated in ages of dust and decay.  It was beautiful 'in a Tim Burton kinda way'; he thought and wondered why it had been closed down.

            "Lack of attendance," said a voice from somewhere near the front of the room.  Jake lifted his gun and light and shone it in that direction.  In the front pew near the aisle sat a man with his head bowed.

            "NYPD" said Jake "Stay where you are and raise your hands."

            "There is no need for aggression Detective," said the man, not moving.  Jake started up the aisle towards him.

            "Don't make me have to repeat myself sir."  At that the man obediently raised his hands over his head.

            "I assure you I mean no harm."

            "Then what are you doing here?"  Jake asked as he reached the man, shining the flashlight into his face.  The man squinted at the bright light.

            "Can an old man not seek shelter from the storm?"  Jake looked around the room, water dripped and poured in from all over the roof, he was even standing in a puddle.

            "There are better places," he said doubtfully.

            "Perhaps" said the man, "but that would depend on your definition of better."

            Strange fellow Jake thought staring at this blonde haired man.  He wore a long black jacket, which was quite similar to a priest's robe except thicker like an overcoat and he didn't seem to be carrying anything with him, which was unusual for the vagrants in the area.

            "May I lower my arms detective? They are starting to hurt."

            "Do you have any identification?" Jake asked, ignoring his question.  "You do realize that you're trespassing?"

            "Not according to that" the man said motioning to the sign over the door.  'Enter all those who seek the truth.'

            "So is that why your really here?" Jake smirked.

            The old man looked Jake steadily in the eye.  "It is the real reason Detective McCarty, any of us are."

            Sara climbed the attic stairs apprehensively.  'He was here,' she thought, 'and he was waiting for her.'  She was a little annoyed actually, that he knew of her and the witchblade and yet was not afraid to face her.  She entered the large and mostly empty area, glancing briefly at the large hole in the roof that gave an excellent view of the city.  He was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace against the far wall.

            "NYPD, stand up and place your hands where I can see them" she said, training her gun and flashlight on him.

            "Hello Sara."

            "Did you hear me, I said stand up, you're under arrest."

            "Under what charge?" the man asked innocently.

            "Breaking and entering for starters, she replied, "and pissing me off as well, though luckily for you that's only a misdemeanor."

            The man laughed and stood, he moved so quickly that Sara wasn't sure she saw it happen.  "I'm afraid Sara, I'm going to have to decline your offer."  He took a step towards her.

            "You can't imagine how much I was hoping you'd say that" she said with a smile as the witchblade transformed on her wrist.  The man's eyes dilated slightly at the sight of the blade's new form, but he did not move in fear or otherwise.

            "This will not end the way you are expecting wielder."  Sara ran at him, determined to knock that smirk off his face the best way she knew how, but as she approached him he held up his arm and she found herself frozen and unable to move.  He raised his hand and she felt a grip around her throat lifting her off the ground.  The witchblade transformed back into the bracelet as she stared down at it incredulously.

            "Like I said," the man hissed,  "you have no idea what you are dealing with."  As she began to blackout from the increasing pressure around her neck, she noticed the green gem he held in his right hand.

            "Oh great,' she thought as she passed out, "Kryptonite."

            The blue gem in Nottingham's ring began to glow suddenly.  Faintly at first, Ian noticed but then steadily getting stronger, till the light was bright enough that even Gabriel noticed.

            "Uh Nottingham…is that normal?"  Gabriel asked.

            "It's Sara," Nottingham answered, "she is in danger."  He quickly turned the car around and sped off in the other direction.  He had been attuned to the wielders emotions since the blade had chosen her, perhaps even since the moment he first saw her.  It was not to the extent that Irons had been, but the ring had given him a connection to her that Kenneth was unaware of.  Ian began to increase the speed of the car, 'but it had never glowed so brightly or been so seemingly insistent that he get to her now.'

            "Wait a minute?" Gabriel questioned, "How do you know?"

            "I know," Ian said firmly, "please put your seatbelt on."  Gabriel quickly did as he was told and Ian accelerated, weaving in and out of traffic. 'Please' he thought feverously, 'don't let me be too late.'


	9. Illume

Chapter 9:Illume

            Sara looked carefully into the display case, her brow furrowed in concentration.  He came up behind her, silently as usual and slipped his hand into hers.  

            Following her gaze he grinned, "Still trying to decide?" 

            "Uh huh."

            "Can I make a suggestion?"

            "Yes…please do," she said exasperated by the choice.

            He stood and turned to the woman at the counter, "She'll have a Pretty 'n' Pink and I'll have a Yonge 'n' Eligible.

            "Really?" asked the sales lady giving Nottingham an unmistakable look.

            "Yes" said Sara quickly, "and NO!" she added holding up their clasped hands.

            "Alright" she laughed, placing the two cupcakes into a white pastry box.  "Enjoy."

            They turned away from the counter to leave.  "That was not funny," Sara said opening the box and removing her treasure.

            Ian took a bite of her cupcake, "What?" he asked innocently.

            "What he asks" Sara mocked.  She wiped the bit of pink icing that clung to his moustache with her finger and placed it into her mouth.  "Waste not, want not," she said softly looking into his eyes.  They had darkened when she had touched him, her fingers brushing softly against his lips.  He leaned down and kissed her and the effect was like a minor earthquake through her nervous system.

            "I'm sorry Sara" he said as he pulled away.

            "Sorry for what?" she murmured opening her eyes.

            "For not being able to stop this…"

            She looked up into his face and noticed the blood seeping from his mouth.  "Ian?" she cried, grabbing him as he slumped into her.  "Oh god no!"

            Behind him stood a man, that she felt she should recognize.  On his hand was a metal glove with a short sword at the end of it.  Ian's blood dripped slowly from the blade.  "Join me Sara" said the man, "embrace your destiny."  The glove on his arm retracted into a green jeweled bracelet quite similar to the witchblade.  He held his hand out to her.  "Embrace me."

            She looked down at Ian but his eyes were closed and he was not moving.  "NO!" she screamed, shaking him violently, willing him to wake. "This isn't happening."

            The man took a few steps back from her, his blade once again changing into the metal glove.  He crouched down and punched the ground dramatically.  A ripple of power began from around the fist and spread out, encompassing the area, leaving a war torn city in it's wake.  Sara looked around at the decimated buildings, and empty streets, fires burning off in the distance.  "This is the place fate has chosen for you Sara, at my side."  He held out his hand again and she noticed the rune tattooed on the back of it.  "I am the redeemer of will, the servant of truth, the bringer of enlightenment, all thee who seek the path look upon my face and know the call to war."

            Ian pulled the car into the lot of the old church.  He again reached into the glove compartment and pulled out his gun.  "Stay here" he commanded to Gabriel as he holstered the weapon.

            "But wait, I mean-"  Gabriel was cut off as Ian closed the door to the car.  He came around to the back opened the hatch and grabbed his katana.  "How do you even know this is the-".  Ian closed the back of the SUV and ran quickly into the building.

            His heart raced as he climbed the stairs, 'She was still alive,' he thought, he would know if she was dead, he would feel it.'  He increased his speed, drawing his blade as he entered the attic.  She lay on the floor unconscious, a man crouched in front of her holding a hand over her forehead.

            "One move Paladin, and I will end her life."  Nottingham drew his weapon and fired a few shots in the man's direction.  He dodged them easily, and turned his full attention towards Ian.

            "So you have called my bluff"

            "Hers is a light not so easily snuffed" Ian replied.

            He laughed at this, "And yet as you can see she is quite subdued."

            Ian raised his Katana in challenge, and the man bowed in acceptance.  Pulling a sword from beneath his robe he flew at Ian with raptorial speed.  Ian matched his attack stroke for stroke drawing on some inner reserve of strength against the brutal force.  He thought of Sara laying unconsciously on the floor and the blue jewel in his ring brightened as his fervor increased.  

            Sara's attacker saw the glow and as quickly as he had advanced he was again across the room.  "Excalibur…" he breathed.  "Awakened?"  He began moving to the left towards the open hole in the wall and Ian moved with him.  Slowly they circled some invisible point between them.  Ian's ring glowed fiercely and his assailant could not hide the open fear in his eyes.  "This will have to wait" he said, burying his sword back beneath the folds of his robe.  He leapt from the roof and disappeared from sight.  Nottingham sheathed his blade and ran over to Sara.

            "Sara?" he called kneeling beside her, "Can you hear me?"  She didn't move or respond.  "Sara?"  He placed his hand on her forehead and was suddenly pulled into her vision.  He was in New York, 'or what had formerly been New York' he surmised.  Crumbling buildings and empty streets were all that was left now.  She sat quietly in the middle of whatever had caused this cradling a body.  He came over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder.

            "I have lost him" she said softly.  He looked down at the man she held in her arms and felt a brief wave of nausea wash over him as he recognized his own face.  He had not feared death in a very long time, and had even come to accept that it may find him in his service to Irons or the wielder.  But to see his body so inwardly still and silent sent a chill through him.

            "Sara, I am here" he said kneeling behind her.  But she would not be consoled.  She rocked the body softly, humming tunelessly through her tears.  'She would mourn for him' he thought 'perhaps knowing this would be enough to get him through the agony of not being with her.'  He glanced around the ruined city, 'But they could not stay here.'  "Just look behind you lady Sara," Ian said, "I will always be there."

            Sara raised her head and slowly turned.  "Ian" she cried, "there you are."  The body in her arms dissolved as she turned to embrace him.  "Just like you promised" she whispered and the vision around them faded away.

A/N: For those of you from Toronto or ever heading to Toronto do not miss The Cupcake Shoppe www.thecupcakeshoppe.ca.  I had the 'Suga 'n' Spice' on the weekend and it was to die for (okay I had 2). 


	10. Rumination

Chapter 10: Rumination

            Gabriel sat quietly in the hallway outside Kenneth's office.  'I did have too much champagne' he decided, His head was throbbing, his throat was dry and there was an unmistakable feeling of nausea in the pit of his stomach.  Of course this could also be a result of waiting outside this particular office at… He looked down at his watch, '3:30 in the morning.  He swallowed for the umpteenth time trying desperately to sooth his sore throat. The only thing scarier than Nottingham himself was the man that controlled him, and while he had never met Kenneth Irons personally, his reputation for ruthlessness preceded him.  Looking down the hallway he wondered where Nottingham had gone.  He'd only said two words to him in the car on the way here before depositing him outside Iron's office and disappearing.  "She's fine" he had muttered.  Leaving Gabriel with only nine hundred and ninety nine thousand questions about what exactly had happened inside the church.  Trouble was, Sara could be just as tight lipped as Nottingham when she wanted to be, which meant he just might never get the full story at all.

            Nottingham quickly changed his clothes, he should be there when Iron's spoke to Mr. Bowman, it would seem strange if he wasn't.  He glanced in the mirror as he smoothed his hair and noticed the multi-coloured bruise developing around his left eye.  'Irons would no doubt ask about it,' Ian thought bitterly, closing the door as he left the room.  'And he would probably relish the explanation'.

            Jake sat in front of the television, shoes undone but not off, clothes still wet from the rain.  He drank a mouthful of beer and sunk lower into the couch.  Part of him registered the cartoons he was watching, but mostly he thought of Sara.  More specifically, the sheer panic that had gone through him when he had heard the gunshots.  He took another mouthful of beer.  He had ran, impossibly fast up the attic stairs, knowing in the back of his mind that she could take care of herself, that she had taken down guys twice her size without even breaking a sweat, but still unable to stop himself from wanting to protect her.  He finished his beer and pulled another one from the six-pack cracking it open and downing a gulp.  She hadn't needed him though, for protection or otherwise, and there was no point in trying to fool himself it was the otherwise he had the problem with.  He'd found her in the corner huddled intimately with Kenneth Iron's man, and she'd looked….Jake struggled to find the right word.  'Vulnerable' he decided.  'She looked vulnerable.'  He finished the beer, contemplated another and decided against it.  'She had never allowed herself to look that way with me,' he thought, 'even after the accident.'  She looked sad and worn out for sure, but not vulnerable.'  He slowly got to his feet, kicking off his shoes and peeling off his clothes. 'Maybe I'm reading too much into this' he thought heading into the bedroom 'I'm her partner, she needs me to believe that I can count on her in any kind of situation, that she's tough as nails.'  He fell into bed, exhausted 'and she'd hit the guy anyway, so it wasn't like they were ready to pick out china.  Maybe he still had a chance.'

            Iron's sat regally behind his desk as Nottingham showed Gabriel into the office.  He stood to shake his hand and then sat down again motioning to the chair in front of him.

            "Thank you for coming Mr. Bowman, especially at this late an hour."  Irons glanced at Ian purposefully, but Ian did not raise his head.

            "No problem," answered Gabriel taking a seat "though I kinda didn't really think I had a choice, you know."

            "I hope Ian did not scare or mistreat you in anyway."

            "No, no" Gabriel interjected, "he was a… perfect gentlemen."  He looked over at Ian who still kept his head down giving no sign he was paying any attention to the conversation around him.

            "Good, then let's get down to business."  He picked up a remote, and pointed it at the wall turning on a large screen that displayed an image of the witchblade.  "Do you know what this is?" he asked.

            "Should I?" Gabriel a little warily.

            "Come now Mr. Bowman let's be honest with each other."  Irons came around to the front of his desk and sat in front of him.  "I know that you have developed a relationship with the enigmatic Ms. Pezzini and I find it hard to believe that she would not have mentioned it.  Especially to a man of your many talents.

            Gabriel cleared his throat.  "It's called the Digitabulum Magae or the witchblade, once worn by Joan of arc…among others." 

            Irons almost clapped in elation.  "Exactly, Mr. Bowman, exactly.  And at this moment in time it has chosen Ms. Pezzini as it's vessel, a problem I would very much like to rectify."

            Gabriel smirked.  "A problem huh, and you think I'm going to help you?"

            "Believe me Gabriel, this need to separate Sara from the witchblade does not come from a place of malice, quite the opposite in fact."  He stood and walked over to the screen,  "The witchblade is a burden not weathered well by most, it invariably consumes the wearer, look at the fate of Joan of Arc.

            Gabriel looked over at Ian again, he had now raised his head but stared wistfully out the window, lost in his own thoughts.

            "After the accident last week, I am quite sure that it would be best for everyone if it was returned to my collection."

            "Why don't you just ask her for it?"

            Kenneth laughed, "I'm sure in your line of work you have read about things that defy normal logic, that have a certain… mystical quality about them.  Simply put, it will not give her up that easily."

            "What is it you want from me…exactly?" asked Gabriel.

            "Relax Mr. Bowman, there is no sinister plot unfolding here, I only need your assistance in locating a book."  He went back around his desk and picked up a piece of paper which he handed to Gabriel.  "It is an old text offering alternate histories regarding the witchblade, that I have been unable to locate."

            Gabriel took the paper and tucked it into his jacket pocket.  "I'll see what I can do."

            "Thank you," said Kenneth turning back to whatever had engrossed him before Gabriel had entered,  "Ian will see you out and my chauffeur will take you home."  Gabriel stood and nodded following Nottingham as he led him out of the office.

            He wasn't quite sure what to think.  Irons obviously wasn't being altogether candid about his real reason's for wanting the witchblade, but if he was right about what it could do…or was doing to Sara, did it matter?

            Sara lay still on her examining table/bed.  Her neck hurt, and her hand hurt and there was another pain inside of her that she refused to acknowledge.  'It hadn't been real,' she reminded herself, 'it was just another vision brought on by the strange piece of jewelry on her wrist'.  'But it had felt real, like all her other visions, real enough to knock the wind out of her, real enough to hurt….and that's what was really bothering her, the images were fake, but the way she had responded to them wasn't.  In the store…buying cupcakes,' she smiled, 'she'd felt something, something that had resembled peace.  A moment later it had been torn away from her as he lay dying in her arms…..as Nottingham lay dying in her arms.'  Sara closed her eyes tightly trying to block out the image.  'The man who had killed him spoke of fate, he'd said it was her destiny to join him, to usher in a new era of war.'  Sara raised her hand and looked at the witchblade, it lay silent on her wrist.  'And he'd been able to control her, revert the blade from it's gloved form, that could definitely be a problem.'  She looked over at the clock on the wall it was 4:00 am, she could go home in a few hours.  Sighing softly she thought to herself, 'I shouldn't have hit him, I shouldn't have…hit him.'

            "I know what you're thinking Ian" said Kenneth when Nottingham returned to the office.  "Why on earth am I discussing the witchblade with Gabriel Bowman?  Being that he is a known cohort, confident and admirer of Ms. Pezzini."

            "The thought did cross my mind" answered Ian.

            "And?"

            "And I realized that you intend to use his fondness for the wielder to your advantage, if he believes the witchblade to be harmful to her, he will perhaps aid in you in getting it back."

            "My very own mentat" said Irons proudly, "Bravo." He clicked the remote again and brought another image of the witchblade up on the large screen.  "While you were out gallivanting with Mr. Bowman, I discovered something."

            Ian looked up at the screen.

            "There is an ancient text that alludes to a different method of creation for the blade.  That not only speaks of the rare metal it is crafted from but maintains that the red jewel is actually made up of three gems of power."  Ian's eyes flickered slightly at this news.  "And here is the real kicker Ian" Kenneth said gleefully.  "One gem is missing."


	11. Sara

A/N:  Thank you to everyone who keeps posting reviews (like thelma)  as long as I know even one person is reading, I'll keep writing (and hopefully keep getting better). Yes that was a Dune reference in the last chapter, I see a few similarities between Ian and the Ghola (who incidentally was my favourite character), some which will be explored in later chapters.

Chapter 11:  Sara

            Sara watched herself walk out of her building and down the street towards the intersection.  She was close enough to see what was happening, but too far away to catch up, to grab the "other" Sara and shake her into consciousness, to stop what she knew was coming.  She'd been having this dream every night since the accident, and staying awake didn't help.  It would just come as a waking vision while she was in the tub, or staring into her cup of coffee.  She'd feel the rain beating down against her, hear the squeal of tires and see a flash of headlights; but she always came out of it just before the crash, her throat hoarse from screaming as she desperately tried to wake herself up-!  But something was different this time, there something she hadn't noticed before.  Perhaps because she'd usually been too concerned with willing her legs to move faster or because she always closed her eyes in the end so that she wouldn't have to watch.  She stared across the street at her doppelganger and realized that she did not stumble blindly into the road, that she looked purposefully up and down the street watching for cars, looking for the precise moment to step off the curb and into the intersection.

            "And now you see" said a voice from behind her.

            Sara whirled around, as fast as the dream would allow her to.  The man from the church stood there quite still, his hands buried beneath his flowing robes.  Removing his hood and allowing the rain to pour off of his shaven head he frowned a little at her,  "But do you yet understand?"

            Sara stepped back from him, unsure of how to react to this intrusion into her private nightmare.  "Understand what?" she asked.

            He pointed towards the intersection.  "That this… was no accident."

            She turned to look, and as if on command the "other " Sara stepped into the street.  The truck coming towards her honked and braked, swerving into oncoming traffic, it's trailer turning sideways and slamming into the vehicle coming in the opposite direction.  Dream Sara was hit and thrown into the air as another car tried to avoid hitting the cab of the truck which had rolled over and was preceding down the street, the unconscious driver still strapped inside.  Sara felt the blow to her ribs as she watched herself roll to the edge of the curb.  She fell to her knees, almost delirious with pain.

            The stranger knelt beside her and spoke softly into her ear.  "Look past the pain Wielder…what is it you see there?  What is it you feel?"  Sara closed her eyes, trying to block out the pain, block out his words, wishing she would just wake up.  "Do not be afraid Sara, there is no shame in truth."

            She gasped as she acknowledged it, the emotion below her agony, the raw hunger and lust that boiled beneath the sharp pain in her chest and side.  She opened her eyes and stared at her reflection in the puddle beneath her.  The witchblade was active and had encompassed her arm and shoulder, the red jewel over her hand glowing fiercely.  The blade continued spreading across her neck and chest, whispering quietly to her as it grew.  "_We are one…we are one_."

            The stranger refitted his hood to his head and stood and turned away from her, "To deny your destiny Sara, is to deny yourself."

            Sara felt, rather than saw him walk away from her, he exited her dream as effortlessly as he had entered it.  She awoke moments later, still at the sleep clinic, noticing that only minutes had passed since she had last looked at the clock.  Silent tears leaked from her eyes and spilled onto her pillow as the words of the witchblade still echoed in her mind.  "_We are one…Sara…we are one_."

            It was raining again, after only two days of reprieve.  It was cold enough that it should have been snowing, but instead it poured, showing no sign it planned to let up.  Sara stood alone away from the service, not wanting to disturb the attendees or upset anybody anymore than they already were.  The man had been in his late 50's and divorced with no children so the turnout was small, but Sara could tell by the faces of his friends and family that he would be missed.   Perhaps if he'd been hated, or horribly mean…maybe if he'd prowled chat rooms for little girls and always stole his neighbour's newspaper…maybe then it wouldn't have hurt so much, maybe then she might have been able to let go of some of her guilt.  But maybe not. Was death a fitting punishment for any earthly evils?  Who stepped in and got to decide?  If such a thing as fate existed, then this man who had seemingly done nothing wrong to anybody, who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, had actually been slated to die by her hand…and for what cause?

            "_For youuu…for you_."  

            The rain seemed to let up a little, and she lifted her shades to see that it was due to an large black umbrella being held over her.  "Good afternoon Sara" said Nottingham.  Even though it was raining he too wore dark sunglasses, hiding whatever emotion lay unguarded in his eyes.

            "I don't suppose you will anyway" she muttered not turning around.

            "Will what?" He asked, unsure of her meaning.  She turned to face him, and he suddenly realized what she meant.  They said it together, "Go away Nottingham."  He smirked and she smiled slightly, but it was a tired smile that did not reach what he could see of her eyes.  He took off her sunglasses and frowned.  "You are still not sleeping...lady Sara."

            She turned her head back towards the funeral.  "Ya well, I passed all my psych tests so it doesn't really matter does it?"

            "It matters to me."

            She turned back to him, and gave him a sarcastic smile.  "Oh it does, does it?  And why is that?"

            He seemed hurt by her question.  "Because _you_ matter to me."

            "Oh give it up Ian" she said quietly, turning away from him again.  "We both know your real motivations."

            Nottingham paused briefly before saying, "Much has developed…since last we spoke."

            "Agreed" she sighed.  She watched a woman kneel beside the man's grave, crying as she spoke, her words lost on the wind between the grave and where Sara stood. She closed her eyes.  "Do you ever wish for a different life Nottingham?  Not richer or more glamorous, not even necessarily easier…just different?"

            "My faith in fate does not allow for such wishes Sara."   She lowered her head and nodded.  "But there are times," he continued "when I do entertain the notion."

            "And?" she asked softly.

            Nottingham's voice lowered till it was only a whisper.  "The only other life I would wish for Sara…would be one where I stood at your side instead of behind you."

            She turned to face him but his head was bowed.  She removed his shades wincing at the bruise around his eye.  After staring at him for several moments, she handed his glasses back to him.  "But we are stuck with the lives we are living aren't we?" she said.  "And all the wishing in the world won't change that fact." 

            "_Destiny…._"

            "To deny your destiny Sara…"

            "Is to deny myself?" she said cutting him off. Nottingham looked at her curiously, and she started to explain.  "He has been coming to me nightly, since the church.  He calls himself Genesis and he too speaks of my destiny."  She pointed at the funeral across the graveyard.  "This, he tells me, is my destiny, and that I…can't escape it."

            "_Pain…_"

            Tears began to well up in her eyes.  "I'm not strong enough to fight him Nottingham, I can't…I can't keep him out of my head.  She held up her wrist with the witchblade.  "And this is not helping.

            Nottingham put the finger of his free hand in his mouth biting down on the leather so he could pull off his glove.  He took her hand and rubbed his thumb over the top of it, much as she had done with his palm, what seemed like ages ago.  "That is but one path the wielder may take, one of an infinite number of possibilities.  But the path is not the destiny Sara just as the journey is not the destination.  Believe in yourself…as I do, and it will all work out in the end."

            Weak as she felt, she was willing to believe anything he said, if he told her she would be okay, she would cling to that like a life preserver in an endless sea.  Not long ago she would have rebuffed his words of encouragement and seen them as just and ends to a means.  But not today, today she desperately needed the support.  She reached up and hugged him suddenly, and he stiffened a bit in surprise.  "I'm sorry I hit you" she said into his chest, and then stepped back from him again.

            "I would never refuse a caress from my lady" Ian grinned.  "Even one disguised as a right hook."

            "Ya whatever Nottingham" Sara said smiling.  And for a moment it seemed that she might hug him again but then she suddenly turned and walked away from him as if she were late for another appointment.


	12. Nottingham

A/N:  I'm sorry I took so long to update but some "WB drama" (as in the channel not the witchblade) in my life kinda got in the way.  Hope you enjoy.

P.S:  I made some changes to some of the witchblade mythos (Excalibur) that I hope doesn't upset anyone.  Happy New Year! Cheers!

Chapter 12: Nottingham

            Ian paced impatiently back and forth across a small section of the precinct parking lot. 'She said 5 minutes' he thought, looking towards the station's side door, '15 minutes ago'.  He tucked a piece of wind caught hair behind his ear and silently willed himself to relax.  Her difficulty with punctuality wasn't the real reason he was agitated, it was the meeting itself that had his nerves on edge, he had offered his help and she had surprisingly accepted without conflict or hesitation.  Of course the fact that she was inside the station at this particular moment with her insipid partner Jake McCarty didn't help either.  He was no doubt playing up his "shortcomings" in an effort to stall her.  Perhaps he had given himself a paper cut, or stapled his sleeve to a case file.  Maybe he had even accidentally shot himself in the foot while cleaning his gun. 'Who'd be the freak then' he thought to himself, a sly grin spreading across his face, 'I at least have all my toes.'

            "What are you smiling about?" Sara asked suddenly.

            She had snuck up on him while he had been lost in thought.  'Not good on the one hand…very good' he thought looking up at her, 'on the other.'

            "Not bad huh?" she smiled. "You can't imagine how long I've been waiting to do that to you."  She raised her left brow; "Soon I'll be catching bullets with my bare hands."

            "Don't get ahead of yourself" said Ian playfully.

            "Yes Sensei" replied Sara clasping her hands together and bowing slightly.

            Ian grinned; it was good to see her smile again.  The few days she'd been back on the job had obviously been good for her.  "Shall we go?" He asked motioning to his car.

            "My chariot awaits?" said Sara reaching up and re-tucking the ever-escaping tendril of hair behind his ear.

            He had an urge to kiss her just then and wondered how hard she'd object.  'Don't get ahead of yourself" he thought gingerly.  'Just because she's being friendly doesn't mean she's in love with you.'  He turned to open the passenger door for her and she got in.  As he closed the door he noticed a strange look on her face, one he was sure he had seen before.  Staring at his own reflection in the tinted windows of the SUV, he wondered what he had done to once again cause the look of disappointment in her eyes.  

            As he came around to his side of the car he was stopped by an elderly man with blonde curly hair.  He had been sticking flyers under the windshield wipers of the cars in the lot and he held one out to Ian.  "Free oil change with tune up at Luigi's Auto-Body."

            Normally Ian would have ignored the gentlemen, but his thoughts were still on Sara.  As he distractedly reached for the flyer the man suddenly grabbed his wrist and turned it over, his ring flashing blue light as it met the man's gaze.  He whispered something that Ian could not quite hear and they were both pulled into a vision.

            Ian looked about his surroundings; he was on a hilltop over looking a green valley.  The old man sat on a large stone near the edge looking quietly over the land.  "I'd almost thought I'd forgotten how to do this," he said with some amusement.

Ian walked over to him, immediately on the defensive.  "Who are you and what is it you want from me?"

            "What I want is irrelevant," said the old man, "in the larger scheme of things."

            "And yet relevant enough for you to have brought me here" countered Ian.

            The old man laughed.  "Yes I suppose so…though perhaps we won't really know until you decide."

            "Decide on what?"

            "On how to use the information I pass on to you."

            "So there is a lesson to be learned among your riddles."

            "All of life is a lesson Ian, one only has to face the front of the class to see it."

            "Fair enough" said Ian,  "You have my attention."

            The old man drew a straight line in the air with his finger.  "All that has happened and that will happen, has been foreseen.  The progression of life, its triumphs and tragedy's, the lives that touch millions, and the lives that seemingly touch none all has been predetermined.  From the beginning… till the final battle, till the very start of the endgame."  Ian listened quietly, his arms crossed in front of his chest.  "But a void has appeared," the old man added "that cannot be seen into or past, and frankly put; it should not be there."

            "And the cause of this void?" Ian asked.

            The old man motioned to the valley and Ian watched as it started to disappear in a wave of fire and destruction.  "A new beginning?" questioned the man grimly.

            "Genesis."

            "He has somehow been able to hide his ascension from those that see."

            "Those that see?" asked Nottingham.  "Are you one of them?"

            The old man shook his head sadly.  "My role is but to watch."  He closed his eyes, lightly drumming his fingers on his leg.  "Doomed to spend eternity on the sidelines."

            Ian's voice held the emotion his face did not.  "I…understand your pain."

            "And I know it" said the man quietly, "…but there is still hope."  Ian's ring began to glow again and he lifted his hand to look at it.

            "Are you familiar with the myth of Excalibur?"

            "I know of the sword of Arthur, used to slay his enemies and unite his people."

            The old man nodded.  "As for my ring," Ian continued, I know very little; besides the fact that it bares the same name."

            "The myths are related," said the man, motioning to Ian to sit on the other rock next to him."

            "When my father gave it to me, he told me it was connected to the witchblade".

             The old man scoffed, surprising Ian.  "It does have a connection to the blade my boy, but if Irons had truly understood it, do you honestly believe he would have given it to you?

            Ian lowered his head realizing that the old man was probably right.

            "Both Excalibur's were forged of the same metal and created through similar passions: lust, power and betrayal.  When Arthur found his betrayal in Guenevere and Lancelot, he attempted to turn his great sword on himself.  It would not let him of course and he wept bitterly.  Not only for the infidelity of his one true love but for his inability to condemn her for her actions.  True love can not be turned on and off like a faucet as I'm sure you have learned, even love that is unrequited."

            'It was true' thought Ian, 'no matter how many times Sara rejected him, and even though his feelings for her often put him at an odds with orders from his father, he found himself unable to get her out of his system.

            "As Arthur's tears glanced off the blade of the sword," the old man continued.  "They were transformed…hardened.  Arthur used this strange material to fashion a ring, that from that day on he seldom went without.  The ring was a reminder, a symbol of the connection he had to his fair lady that nothing save maybe death could sever."

            Ian looked pensively at his ring absorbing all the old man had told him.

            "The ring has been passed down throughout time, and like the witchblade has had many possessors who attempted to share in the link it can create, but these are stories for another time.

            "Share in the link?" asked Ian.

            "The link between the wearer of Excalibur and his true love."  Ian looked up at the man startled by this revelation.  'This is the base of the power of the ring Ian, the connection it has created between you and the wielder… not the witchblade.  In the unlikely event that the blade were to abandon her tomorrow, the link would remain, this is the bond that Genesis fears.  He hopes to corrupt her with seductions of power and destiny.  To create a connection with her that will place her at his side.  In her current state…I'm afraid that it may be easier to-!"

            "No" said Ian, cutting him off.  "She will not join him."  He stood and took a few steps towards the edge of the cliff.  "If what you say of Excalibur is true, then the connection the ring holds is only one way.  And while I cannot profess to know the heart of the wielder, I am confident in her mind…she will stay strong."

            The old man smiled behind Nottingham's back.  "Fair enough."  As the vision began to fade away Ian heard the man's voice echo, "But you must be strong as well Protector, strong enough to face what is coming."  He suddenly found himself standing in front of his car watching a mass of blonde curly hair saunter away from him and across the parking lot.  He quickly got into the car, cramming the flyer into his pocket.

            "You all right?" asked Sara. "You seemed to wonder off there while you were talking to that flyer guy."

            "I'm fine," replied Ian a little too tersely.  "I thought I recognized him," he added quickly, not wanting her to catch on to his agitation."  She looked out the window of the car not saying anything, and Ian was at a loss for words.  How could he explain to her what the old man had told him without freaking her out.  This was just something he would have to bear alone.

            When Sara came out of the change room Ian was stretching, he stopped when he saw her stood straight, arms at his sides and gave her a little bow.  She bowed back a little awkwardly not lowering her head though so she could keep her eyes on him.  On the walls of the room were many different weapons, she moved closer to one and picked up a short knife.  Scanning the others she sighed to herself, what did it matter, the size, the shape, they were all meant for one thing, one purpose…"To kill," she said looking down at the witchblade.

            "Yes Sara", said Ian, "weapons are functioned to maim and even kill, but it's under the service of who and what that matters."  The weapon is still only an extension of the man, as the witchblade is only an extension of you.  You wield the blade Sara, to your own will and desire not the other way around….."  He stopped suddenly, realizing he had almost crossed the line, Irons had made it very clear that he did not want Sara to know of the missing jewel inside the witchblade and the effect it may have had on the periculum.  

            She placed the knife back on the wall staring at it for a moment more before saying, "Alright let's do this."

            They circled each other, each making calculated strikes and blocks, their speed and intensity increasing as they fought.  "Keep your back straight Sara…you're using too much energy," Ian corrected.  She swung a punch that came awfully close to Nottingham's face and he frowned at her, responding with a palm strike to the chest that sent her sprawling.  "Anger Sara, is the only thing worse than fear in a fight, you must learn to control it.

            She looked up at him, trying to catch her breath, "Or maybe you could stop pissing me off."

            He smiled.  "It's a little too much fun for me to give up cold turkey."

            "So you're a comedian now?" she said slowly getting to her feet. She put her hip and shoulder into a straight left to Ian's stomach but he did not move.  He grabbed her arm and spun her around holding her right shoulder in one hand and her chin in the other.

            "Had I truly been your enemy Sara, I'd have snapped your neck just then, in tribute to your impatience."

            She reached down and slid her left hand across Ian's leg towards his ass, and his grip loosened.  "I don't think so," she said, gracefully knocking him to the ground with a backwards leg sweep.  She squatted over him, holding her forearm over his neck.  "Typical male I see," she smiled "think a women's trying to cop a feel and your legs turn to mush."

            "My legs are the least of my problems right now" he mumbled.

            "Nottingham…" she groaned getting off him and offering him a hand up.

            "Something I said?" asked Ian, his eyes flashing with an uncharacteristic humor.

            "Ya, something…though it's more that look you get in your eye."

            Ian lowered his gaze.  "I am sorry Sara".

            "Oh God Ian, that one is even worse, you must have been able to get away with murder as a child."  She stopped suddenly, realizing her slip.

            "No…" Ian said,  "…that came later."  He gave her a wolfish smile and she laughed in spite of herself.

            "It's just that sometimes when you look at me," she continued, "I can feel an expectation… of something I can't  reciprocate."  Ian's eyes bored intensely into hers till she broke and looked away.  "Look Nottingham, I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel something, or that I didn't think all this was more than just chance."  She paced the floor in front of him.  "But there are so many other factors here, like me being a cop and you being…an assassin among other things I'm sure.  Then there's that nut job of a father of yours, and you've got to know that your more than a little strange, which let me tell you I really don't need anymore of in my life."  She sighed and closed her eyes. "What I'm trying to say Nottingham…is that there are probably a million and a half reasons why this" she motioned to the two of them "just can't happen."

            "He'd registered what she'd been saying because he rarely missed anything.  He could even tell that the corner panel in the window along the far wall was cracked because of the wind he could hear whistling through it.  But what he concentrated on was her stance, her fists poised defiantly on her hips.  The seductive way she flipped her pony tale over her shoulder and how her eyes flashed as she told him it was never gonna happen.  'To hell with it' he thought.  He closed the gap between them and pulled her into his arms silencing her "besides your not even my type" with an almost savage intensity that caught her off guard.  The kiss deepened as his arms enclosed around her tightly, imprisoning her against the warm hard length of his body.  It was Sara's turn to have her legs turn to mush as her body went weak under his bruising hunger.  Only to be cut off as he abruptly pulled away from her.  "Your right" he said huskily, "this can't happen."

            Sara ran her fingers over her swollen lips, as he stepped away from her.  Momentarily stunned she muttered softy "Hey now, maybe I was just playing a little hard to get."

            He turned his head slightly towards her, "Do not tease me…Sara."

            Still reeling from Ian's kiss she struggled to think straight.  "Me…tease you?" she asked.

            "Can my feelings mean so little?"

            She came around to the front of him, since he would not turn and look at her.  "Let's not forget you're the one who started this."

            "I am sorry my lady, I was…out of line."

            "Oh no you don't Nottingham, don't you dare just shut down and hide behind that trained formality."  She placed her hand under his chin and raised his head a bit so she could see into his eyes."

            "Every man must know his place," said Ian carefully.  "It is the first step in feeling self worth….. and though at times I may entertain the…notion of another…it is but an exercise in futility."

            Sara's shoulders slumped, he could be quite stubborn when he wanted to be…but he was probably right, even though at this particular moment every fiber in her body screamed differently.  "Maybe you could kiss me again…you know... just to make sure."

            Ian smiled down at her, desperately wanting to take her up on her suggestion.  "Maybe" he said, "we should move on to the techniques I actually brought you here to teach you."

            "Something tells me they won't be as fun."

            "They will help you Sara," said Ian earnestly.  "With your focus and concentration."

            "My focus and concentration are the least of my problems right now" Sara mumbled, biting her bottom lip.  "Or wait…maybe they're not." She added.

            Ian smiled and took her hand leading her to the center of the room where they sat cross legged in front of each other.  His normally very ordered thoughts were all over the place.  He had kissed her…and she had not responded with a left or right hook like he had anticipated, but rather… he was afraid to think it, to dare even hope that it might be true.  Could the ever unreachable, untouchable Sara's heart be turning towards him?  He thought back to what the old man had told him about Excalibur, of the connection it's awakening implied.  Whatever the state of the wielders heart,' he thought 'it did not change the fact that she completely owned his.'


	13. Cravings

A/N:  Not dead yet….

Chapter 13: Cravings

            Sara sat at her desk, absentmindedly tapping her pen against her leg and staring out the window at the snow that had finally decided to blanket the city.  'She's been sitting this way for the past hour' thought Jake peering over at her from behind the case file he held in front of him.  "Any luck?" he asked.  "…Pez?"

            She looked up at him slowly, temporarily pulled from her trance.  Staring at the computer files in front of her she shook her head.  "No not yet."  She'd been looking through the police files for a match on Genesis, so far without any luck.  Sara rubbed her eyes and picked up her half empty coffee cup.  She wasn't really surprised, Genesis wasn't your general thug.  There was a definite method to his madness and unfortunately she was at the center of it.  She grimaced as the cold coffee pushed past her lips.  "I'm going on a coffee run, you want anything?"

            "Well actually…"

            "Normal?"

            "A skinny caramel extra whip machiatto isn't normal?"

            "Geez McCarty if you have to ask?"

            "Fine, fine whatever" he laughed.  "Just don't forget the sugar."

            Crossing the crowded police room she felt the stares on her back.  She put on her sunglasses as she headed outside,  it wasn't anything new.  "I don't need their friendship" she thought bitterly, "just their damn respect."  She gritted her teeth against the sentiment, settling into the familiar aura of anger and resentment she found so comfortable.  Her cell phone rang as she got to the bottom of the front steps, and she answered it with a little more than her usual abruptness.  "Ya talk to me."

            "Good afternoon Sara."  Sara slowly scanned the area for her 6ft black clad shadow.

            "What up Nottingham?"

            "You seem a little tense my lady, are those techniques we practiced not working?"

            "They're working just fine Ian" she sighed, massaging her left temple and wishing he'd just get to the point. "….except for that first one," she added quietly "maybe I should schedule another lesson."  She instantly heard the crunch of snow behind her and put her phone back into her pocket.  "I thought that might speed this up a bit," she said plainly, turning around to face him.  "What do you want?"  He stood in front of her in his trademark black on black, a wool cap covering his head and the weather finally giving purpose to his ever present gloves.  His face was a little flushed from the cold, or perhaps from her comment and his eyes as usual stared intensely into hers.  'Perhaps this would have been better over the phone' she thought to herself, flashing briefly back to their kiss.  Trying to keep her eyes off of his lips she noticed a flash of blue beneath the collar of his coat.  "And what's this?" she asked. Reaching in and tugging on the soft fabric.  The top of his coat unzipped and the end of a bright blue scarf was caught by the wind.  "I didn't know blue was an acceptable colour for a henchman."

            "It was a gift" said Ian, "…from our cook."  Sara noted his embarrassment.  "Apparently she dislikes my penchant for black even less then you do."

            Sara tried to hide her smile and tucked the wayward scarf back into his coat. She did up the zipper allowing her hand to linger for a moment against his chest before quickly shoving her hands back into her pockets.  'It was strange,' she thought, 'how the man who so often sparked anger in her now so easily made it disappear.' They stared at each other silently for a moment each lost in their own thoughts.

            "I have something for you," Ian said finally.  As he reached into his pocket, his phone rang.  "Nottingham" he said answering it immediately.

            "And how is the wielder this fine afternoon?"

            "Enigmatic…as usual," answered Ian.

            Kenneth laughed. "I would expect nothing less.  Have you given her the file?"

            "I was just about to" said Ian pulling the disc from his pocket and placing it in Sara's hand.

            "Excellent, tell her that I hope it will be accepted in the spirit in which it was given."  Ian hung up the phone and looked over at Sara who stared down at the disc.

            "What's this?"

            "A gift from Mr. Irons."

            "Then I don't want it," she said giving it back to him.  "He's already given me the gift of a lifetime," she muttered, subconsciously pulling her coat sleeve down over the witchblade.  Turning away from him she added "…a gift that keeps on giving."

            "Sara" said Ian softly.  "There is no subterfuge here, it is simply information that I have gathered about Genesis."

            Sara turned back towards him, feeling a surge of emotion at the earnest look on his face.  'Damn you Nottingham' she thought, averting her eyes from his gaze and praying he wouldn't guess why.  "Nothing is ever simple with Kenneth Irons" she said, taking the disc from his outstretched hand.  As she began to walk away from him she mumbled quietly "and they are becoming increasingly more complicated with you." 

            He contemplated her last comment as he watched her walk away from him.  It would be another full minute before he allowed himself to drag his eyes away from her and return to his vehicle.

            Sara was looking out the window again, when Jake came back into the office.  "You're back" he said, dropping a load of files on his desk.

            'It had been a while,' she thought to herself, unaware of Jakes entrance.  'Longer than she'd care to admit actually…and under normal circumstances she was sure she would never have found herself attracted to Ian Nottingham.   The very notion of her thinking about him in…that way…it was absurd.'

            "Hello?"  Jake waved at her, tapping on an imaginary mike.  "Is this thing on?"

            The witchblade heated up on her wrist as if to chastise her for lying to herself.  'That way was exactly how she had been thinking of him since he had kissed her a few nights ago.  That way at the gym, that way in his car, in her bed, on the couch, bent over the dinning table…

            Jake took the lid off of his coffee and took a sip, frowning as the hot liquid entered his mouth.  "You forgot the sugar Sara," he wined.

            "What?"

            "The sugar" Jake said, opening his drawer to look for extra packets.

            "Oh sorry…I forgot."

            Jake looked over at her again, wondering what had Pez so distracted.  He came over to stand in front of her, and noticed she was a little flushed.  "You alright…Sara?"

            She smiled nervously and stared into her coffee.  "Ya…I'm fine."

            He didn't believe her, the only time Sara wouldn't look you in the eye was when there was something in hers she didn't want you to see.   That was the thing about Sara, most of the time she wore her emotions on her sleeve.  He placed a hand on her shoulder.  "You know that if there's something…I mean if you want to talk…I'm here for you."  Sara unsure of the steadiness of her voice, nodded.  He smiled down at her and softly ran a finger across her cheek.  

            She knew it was going to happen, even before he did.  Before his eyes darkened and his breath held still, before his hand went slowly from her cheek to the back of her neck and his thigh pressed firmly against hers.  And while she knew it would never work, that she would never feel about him the way he felt about her, she didn't stop him or pull away.  She needed the distraction, from what or more correctly who… her body really wanted.  

            She felt him smile against her lips and pulled away from him a little.  "What?" she asked softly, curious at his amusement.  

            "You're even better than the sugar Sara" said Jake giving her a crooked smile.  Sara groaned and closed her eyes.  

            "Please Jake" she said raising her lips towards his.  "Don't talk…"

            Perched in his familiar spot across from the station, Ian watched Sara and the rookie embrace.  He knew he shouldn't be here, he had errands to run and it was a veritable sin to keep Irons waiting, but he couldn't get Sara's comment out of his mind.   Sighing inwardly he stepped down from the ledge and walked towards the fire escape.  Whatever complications Sara believed existed between him and herself, she had quite obviously found the solution.

            Later that evening Sara sat on the floor of her living room cross-legged, eyes closed, and breathing rhythmically.  They were not easy, the techniques Ian had shown her.  She found it difficult to completely clear her mind, to think of absolutely nothing at all.  Especially since today she had made one of the biggest mistakes of her life.  

            "Kissing Jake", she groaned, 'someone must have slipped something in her coffee'. She couldn't believe it had happened, 'and at the station no less, if someone had walked in…'  She placed her head in her hands and stared at one of the candles in front of her.  He had already called her twice since she had gotten home, 'thank God for caller ID'.   'How was she going to explain to him, that she had been temporarily insane.  That he was her partner and that she liked him as such and nothing more'.  She slowly sat up straight again and tried to concentrate, gradually slowing her breathing.  It was all about control Ian had told her, she needed to stay in control to prevent the sleepwalking and missing time…'God if she had only exercised some self control this afternoon.'  She sighed with exasperation, this just wasn't going to work tonight.  

            She felt his presence even before she heard the rustle of his robes behind her.  "Any chance that if I just ignore you, you'll go away?"

            Genesis came around to the front of her and sat down.  "I am afraid not."

            Sara watched with fascination as the candles between them seemed to lower in his presence.

            Sara closed her eyes, "That's too bad."

            "We are eternally linked…"

            "No" said Sara, sounding more as if she was trying to convince herself, than him.  "We are not."

            "Through the thing that makes us different" he continued.  "Through the will of the Bright Lady."

            Sara opened her eyes.  "What bright lady?"

            Genesis smiled.  "She who has forgiven our weaknesses and rewarded our strengths.  She who has chosen us to usher in the new age."

            "Your insane."

            "Says the vigilant non-believer."

            "Actually more like says your Doctor… Jeff."

            Genesis stopped.

            "Mm Hmm" said Sara gaining confidence with every word.  "You see, I know a bit about you as well. Jeff Davies born 1971 in Istanbul, to an American father and a Turkish mother who unfortunately did not survive the delivery.  You and your father lived all over Europe until you were recruited by a secret American military program at the age of 18 and relocated to the Sudan.

            Genesis had closed his eyes, there was no emotion visible on his face.

            "Should I go on to list your commendations, or talk about your wife and son."

            Genesis opened his eyes and gave Sara a pained smile.  "None of that matters now…everything changed the moment my true destiny was revealed to me."

            "Revenge?"

            "Justice!" spat Genesis.  "For a world that deserves none.  Surely you can see that."

            "Your kidding right?  I'm a cop, justice is my livelihood."

            Genesis looked down at the witchblade on her wrist.  "It is much more than that wielder."  His voice changed and softened.  "I can help you Sara" he pleaded.  "I have never lied to you."

            "So you say" she said angrily.  "You have only tried to manipulate me into serving your insane notions of…

            "I have worshiped you Sara" Genesis interrupted, "tried to guide you to your true path…I have killed in your name, darkened the light in the eyes of those who did not accept your destiny, no one on earth understands you better than me.  You cannot dissipate the hunger and lust for power and glory with meditation."  He leaned in closer to her, and Sara changed the blade into the gloved sword, holding it out at his neck. "The blade is no ordinary weapon Sara and it has chosen you.  You cannot put it into a drawer or hang it on a wall and forget about it.  It must feed" he told her as he began to fade away.  "Feed the blade Sara, or it will feed off of you."

            Sara blinked and glanced around the room, glad that he was gone.  It was a neat trick she acknowledged, the fading in and out bit. "He must be great at parties" she said to no one in particular.  Covering her face with her hands she silently tried to will herself to laugh rather than cry. The blade changed back into it's bracelet form and the red jewel began to pulse softly.  Genesis's last words echoed in her ears "Feed the blade Sara, or it will feed off of you."


	14. The first shoe

Chapter 14:  The first shoe…

            Less than an hour later there was a knock at the door.  Sara froze, and prayed silently that it wouldn't be Jake.  She would take a homicidal maniac over Jake at this particular moment or a 40 minute discussion about The Watchtower.  She slowly made her way down the stairs to the door, and peeked through the peephole.

            "Thank God" she exclaimed and opened the door.

            "Hey Sara" said Gabriel following her in.  "Sorry to drop by un-announced…but I was in the area so I thought I'd come see how you're doing."

            She led him upstairs  "No problem Gabe,  I was just….watching TV."

            Gabriel looked over at the television, it was off and covered in clothes.

            "Reading" said Sara quickly, I meant reading.  She grabbed a book off of the coffee table that Vicky had forgotten a couple of days ago and held it up.  The cover had a blonde Adonis complete with heaving chest, grasping a dark haired woman.  "You know me and trashy novels," she said with a grin.  "Just can't get enough."

            Gabriel smiled back at her knowingly, "I brought a gift" he said holding up a bottle of wine.

            "What's the occasion?"

            "Nothing really, a client short on cash traded it for a Mayan prayer bowl."  Gabriel examined the label as Sara went into the kitchen to get glasses and a bottle opener.  "Apparently it's worth $2500."

            "Your kidding" she said, coming back into the living room and sitting next to him on the couch.

            "That or I've taken a loss on that bowl."  Gabriel opened the wine and poured Sara and himself a glass.  Placing the bottle on the coffee table in front of them he turned towards her.  "So what up Pezzini?  It's been a while."

            Sara smiled.  "Not much Gabe, it's been pretty much routine around here…eat, work…

            "Sleep?"  Gabriel added.

            Sara nodded and gulped her wine.  "Yup" she said into her empty glass.

            Gabriel re-filled it.  "That case you were working on…the serial, how's that going?"

            "It's going I guess…we haven't got any leads just yet" she lied, "but at least we haven't had another body turn up."  She knocked on the table in front of them.  "Knock on wood."

            Sara drained her glass and Gabriel re-filled it.  "Are you trying to get me drunk Mr. Bowman?"

            "Absolutely Ms. Pezzini" said Gabriel clinking his glass against hers.  "So that I may have my way with you."

            "Really?" Sara snorted.  "And which way would you like me?"

            "Honest"  said Gabriel, suddenly turning serious.  Sara's smile slowly slid from her face.  "I mean we haven't talked" he continued.  "…I mean really talked since the accident."

            "What do you want to talk about?" asked Sara, a little exasperated.

            Gabriel didn't answer, he searched her face for something, but Sara was not sure what.

            The blade sensing her tension began to swirl on her wrist.  "Look Gabe, I'm fine really."  She put down her glass and stood up, pacing the living room as she spoke.  "I mean yah, maybe I'm not completely over it, but I'm doing a lot better, I'm just trying to concentrate on my work.  You know, getting things back to normal."  She felt that familiar fog begin to form in the back of her head.  Perhaps if she hadn't forgotten to eat today, the wine wouldn't have hit her so fast.

            "I'm glad Sara" said Gabriel, not missing the increasing activity of her bracelet or the way she subconsciously rubbed her wrist below it as she paced.

            She sat back down on the couch and leaned against the back.  Gabriel leaned back beside her.  "There's nothing in the world you can't handle right?"

            "Damn straight" said Sara closing her eyes.

            Gabriel placed his hand on her thigh.  "But should you ever, come across something, that seems… arduous…"

            Sara smiled.  "Ooh Good word usage."

            "I mean it Sara, I want you to know that I'm here for you."

            Sara placed her head on his shoulder.  'He was here for her" she thought "just like Jake."  Foggy as she was she didn't miss the subtle pressure of Gabriel's hand on her thigh or the implied intimacy in him brushing the hair off her cheek and tucking it behind her ear.  Still she didn't pull away, though inside she knew she should have.  Instead she silently chastised herself for not being able to find what she was looking for in Gabriel's arms or Jake's for that matter,  and constantly pushing away the man in whose she suspected she would.

            She awoke a couple of hours later, dream free thankfully.  A note from Gabriel promised to call and told her that she could keep the wine.  She pulled the blanket he had placed over her tighter around her body, frowning at her toes which refused to stay under the blankets warmth.

            "Are you cold Lady Sara?"  Ian's voice carried over from the window, it was just above a whisper.

            "For goodness sake," said Sara.  "Is there an 'Open House' sign out front?"

            "I do not believe so my Lady, are you planning to move?"

            Sara turned her head to look over at him,  "It's called…sarcasm, I was trying to be… oh just forget it Nottingham."   Even though his back was towards her as he stared out the window, she felt him smile slightly at her frustration…and then something else.  "Nottingham?" she asked. "…are you alright?"  Standing up quickly she started towards him, the blanket sliding to the floor behind her.  She had always felt some sort of connection to him, since that day at the museum, but it had become stronger since that night with Genesis at the church, and right now it was telling her that something was wrong.  She placed her hand on his shoulder and turned him towards her.  A bruise was developing around his right eye and there was blood in his nose and at the side of his mouth.

            "What happened to you?"

            Ian wouldn't look her in the eye, his head dropped to his chest as he mumbled.  "I was… in a fight."

            Sara, now noticed that he was covered in dirt, his usually impeccable attire was torn and disheveled.  "I'll say" she breathed.  "I hope you gave back as good as you got."

Ian opened his mouth to answer, but then thought better of it and said nothing.

            "Come on" said Sara leading him to her bathroom.  "Let's get you cleaned up.

            Sitting him on the closed lid of the toilet she reached for her first aid kit under the sink.        

            "I thought you were infallible Nottingham… looks like this guy worked you over good."

            "I mistakenly allowed my emotions to get the best of me".

            "Anger is your enemy and such…"

            "Yes" said Ian.  "Among other things."

            She carefully wiped the blood from his nose and lip, and cleaned the cut on his cheek with antiseptic.  She was standing so close to him, he found it difficult to breath.  He was concentrating so hard on fighting the urge to pull her down on to his lap, that he missed what she had asked him.  "I beg your pardon Lady Sara?"

            "I said, what was this fight about?  I mean… you don't really seem like the bar brawl type."

            "I'd rather not say" said Ian softly.

            "Well if it was about the Knicks game," Sara offered.   "I completely understand.  How anyone can live in this city and be a Shaq fan is beyond me."  Smiling she, dropping the face cloth she was using into the sink and turned to leave.  "Let me get you some steak for that eye."  

Ian exhaled deeply but silently as she left the bathroom.  His head was swimming, not just from the pleasure of the wielders touch as she tended to his wounds, but also from the level of concentration it was taking to block out the pain.  His thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing, and Sara cursing quietly, after viewing the call display Ian figured.  She came back into the bathroom a moment later, with a package of sirloin that she began to unwrap.

            "I can administer the meat to myself Sara, if you are wanted on the phone."

Sara smiled at his phrasing.  "No it's alright, it was just Jake… and I'm kinda not really looking to speak to him right now." 

            "Really?" said Nottingham.  "He led me to believe otherwise."

            "We kinda got into this…thing at work"  Sara mumbled.  "And I…"  She stopped suddenly and turned to look at him.  Ian felt himself pale as he realized he had spoken aloud.

            'I should have gone home' he thought 'or better yet, just lain in a ditch, better to die in a ditch then here with her hating me.'

            "What do you mean he led you to…when did you see him?

            Like a reflex Ian began to mentally count backwards, it's how he controlled his fear when Irons was angry with him.  Only now the numbers were getting mixed up and he couldn't remember what came before 7.

            "Nottingham?" Sara called, from what seemed to him like very far away.  "Nottingham?!"  she said louder.

            "Yes lady Sara?"  said Ian coming back into focus.

            "Tell me this isn't what it looks like."

            "What what looks like my lady?"

            Sara closed her eyes.  "You didn't get into a fight with Jake tonight did you?"

            She didn't even give him time to answer.  "Are you insane?" she yelled.  "Don't answer that?  I already know the answer." She slapped the steak against his eye angrily and used his hand to hold it in place.  "Here" she said tersely "Administer this."

            Sara's hands went to her hips and Ian frowned in anticipation of the lecture he was about to receive.

            "Sara?" said Ian softly.

            "Is he hurt?" she asked.  "Cause, so help me Nottingham."

            "Sara I.."  Ian tried again.

            "Did you forget that he's a cop, that he can press charges against you."

            Ian opened his mouth and Sara walked out of the bathroom.  She went over to grab her cordless phone and began to dial Jakes number.  'He must have been watching' she thought.  'He saw us kissing and then went after Jake'.  

            She came back into the doorway of the bathroom as Jakes phone began to ring.  Nottingham's head was down, his chin pressed against his chest.

            "I can't even imagine what goes through that head of yours."  He didn't move or acknowledge her presence at all.  "I mean honestly" she said looking him over. "Your lucky he didn't just sh…"   Sara's voice tapered off as Jakes answering machine clicked in and he cheerfully informed her to leave a message.  She barely heard it.  Right now her concentration was on the small puddle of blood at the base of the toilet, it's origins seeming to come from somewhere underneath Ian's torn jacket.  "Nottingham?" she whispered, and as if on cue, he slumped of the toilet and into her arms.


	15. Release

A/N:  It's good to know that you guys haven't forgotten about me, and I really appreciate the reviews…hope you enjoy.

Chapter 15: Release

            Sara dropped the phone in order to catch him and slowly lowered him to the floor.  "Nottingham?" she called out, but he didn't answer.  Pulling open his jacket, she felt around for the source of the blood.  There was a small hole on the right of his lower stomach a couple of inches below his ribs, and it was bleeding profusely.  "Shit, shit, shit" she whispered grabbing a towel off the rack and using it to put pressure on the wound.  

            She couldn't take him to the hospital, she wouldn't be able to keep him on her bike, not to mention the GSW report that would have to be filed.  'His car would be somewhere nearby" she realized, 'maybe I could take him to Vicky or…'  She struggled to think quickly, what she needed was more time, she had to stop the bleeding or he would die.  As she pressed the towel tighter on Nottingham's stomach, she felt a small vibration from the witchblade go through her wrist and hand.  Lifting up the blood soaked towel she noticed that while the wound was still gaping, the blood flow had lessened.

            "Sara…" said Ian.

            Sara looked up, relieved that he was conscious again.

            "I'm…sorry…"

            Her eyes burned with tears of frustration.  "You should be" she whispered.

            Ian smiled briefly before closing his eyes again.

            "Listen to me Nottingham…"  She patted him on his cheek and his eyes fluttered open.  "I need you to stay with me….can you do that?"

            Nottingham nodded.  "Anything…for my lady…"

            "Good" she said going through his pockets.  "We need to get to your car."

            Fifteen minutes later, Sara had got Nottingham to his feet, down the stairs and into his vehicle.

            "You still with me?" she asked.  He was leaning his head against the cool glass of the passenger side window.

            "Always," he said softly.

            "Good" she returned and started the car.

            It didn't take long to get to the address he had suggested.  Opening his door she asked  "Are you sure this is the place?"  A few feet in front of them was a single metal door.  It was in the middle of a wall under a bridge, lit from a lone street lamp up above, and there were no tracks in the snow surrounding the area.

            "Yes" said Ian pulling himself out of the car.

            She reached under his left arm and helped him over to the wall.  Ian pulled a small ultra-violet flashlight from his pocket and shone it on the door.  The numbers "417" were displayed.  He punched a code into the keypad and waited for the click.  Pulling on it with his free arm he said "Come on."

Sara half dragged half pulled Ian through a long intricate series of hallways and staircases leading down under the city.

            "This is it, isn't it?" she asked, when they had stopped for a moment to rest.  "The Cornea."

            Nottingham nodded.  Sara shook her head, "I could write my own ticket down at the precinct with the location of this place."  Ian tensed and Sara stiffened to brace him.  "Of course I won't say anything" she added quickly, looking around as they began to move again.  "Just to know that this place really exists is enough for me."

            Suddenly a flashlight was shone into their faces.  "Identification please" said a voice.  Sara could see the outline of three figures, the closet was the one who spoke.

            "3 5 7" said Nottingham "dash 9 1 2….A"

            The flashlights were immediately lowered.  "Mr. Nottingham…I apologize, I didn't recognize you."

            Nottingham nodded, and the three backed off to the side.

            "Is there anything I can get for you sir?"

            "Bentley" answered Ian.  "And my vehicle is…"

            "Not a problem sir."  He interrupted.

            As the three turned to leave Sara noticed that one of them was female. She could feel her dark eyes boring into her as she helped Nottingham through a doorway and down another hall.

            It was less than five minutes after they arrived at Nottingham's room that Bentley appeared.  He was a friendly looking man, with white hair, blue eyes and a smile that never wavered, even after he removed Ian's make shift bandage and observed his wound.

            "I'd be guessin' it's safe to assume that you didn't do this" he said, opening his bag.

            Looking at his wound again put a lump in Sara's throat, so she shook her head instead.

            "Do not worry lass, he'll be fine.  The boy has a gift fer healing if I ever saw one.  Plus he's got a fine doctor to boot."

            Sara managed a weak smile, and then left the room to wait in the hall.  Her cell phone rang just as she closed the door behind her, and she answered it, surprised to get a signal so deep underground.

            "Sara?  It's me Jake… where ….you?"

            "Jake?"  The signal wasn't very good, and kept cutting out.

            "… you hurt? ….a lot of blood in… bathroom."

            "You're at my place?" asked Sara.

            "…front door….unlocked….sure you're okay?"

            "It's not my blood Jake, it's Nottingham's…he was shot."

            "What?"

            "He was shot Jake…I can't believe you…"  Sara stopped mid sentence.

            "What are…talking about?….didn't shoot him…"

            Sara changed the signal on the phone and Jake came through a little clearer.

            "Sara…you don't understand."

            "Are you telling me that you didn't get into a fight with Nottingham tonight?"

            "Yes" said Jake.  "I mean no, yes we got into it a little, but I didn't…"  Sara was suddenly cut off as the phone went static.

            "Jake…are you still there?"  All she could hear was static so she hung up.  She slid down the wall to the floor hugging her knees against her.  'Jake said he didn't shoot him, which meant someone else had.  But who?"

            The female security agent from earlier came around the corner and stopped in front of Sara.  She was really quite striking Sara realized.  A tall black woman with dark eyes and high cheek bones.   She had long dark dreads that she kept tied at the nape of her neck, and there were familiar blonde streaks along the front of them.

            "How is he?" she asked, staring down at Sara with an intensity that made her nervous.

            "I'm not sure" answered Sara truthfully.  "But Bentley seems optimistic."

            The woman nodded slowly, crossing her arms across her chest, and then surprisingly sliding down to the floor across from Sara.  "He'll pull through" she said quietly.  "He's a fighter."

            "Do you know him well?" asked Sara, curious about this woman's interest in Ian.

            The other woman smiled.  "There are few that can claim that ability" she answered.  "Only one in fact… to hear him tell it."  She shifted slightly, resting the side of her face on her knees.  "But it's probably safe to say that he knows me better than anyone else on earth."

            Sara felt a pang of jealousy at the relationship this woman implied existed between her and Nottingham.  Well what did she expect said a voice from somewhere inside her, that no other woman, would be attracted to his soulful eyes and hard body…

            "You're her aren't you?" she asked,  "…the moon?"

            Sara blinked rapidly and then stared at her.  "What?"

            The other woman smiled.  "It's what he calls you..."  The fluorescent lights above flickered a little and Sara felt her stomach tighten.  "She who guides the tides of his soul."

            Sara didn't know what to say.  As she struggled for the words, the woman suddenly stood up and faced the door.  Bentley opened it a second later and came into the hallway.

            "Ms. Mobius" said Bentley nodding to the woman in front of him.

            Sara scrambled to her feet surprised by both the sudden appearance of the doctor and the security guards identity.

            "I believe I found the problem" said Bentley, placing a small flattened bullet in Sara's hand.

            Sara looked at the bullet carefully and then sighed with relief.  It wasn't department standard issue.  Jake was telling the truth.

            "He'll live" said Bentley turning to leave.  "Once again."  He smiled down at Sara.  "Not that I'm complaining or anything…he's putting my grand kids through college."  He gave Sara's shoulder a squeeze and then headed off down the hallway.

            Cyan Mobius gave Sara a small nod before also heading off in the opposite direction.

            Sara stood outside Nottingham's door for a moment, going over the events that had brought her here…to the Cornea.  The underworld's Plaza Hotel.  Where the elite in the criminal underground could secure maps, weapons, medical attention or just a place to lay low when the heat was on.  Ian had frequented this place often from what the doctor said.  And if she remembered correctly from the rumours at the station house, staying here didn't come cheap.  Bentley had alluded to that himself.  Opening the door and entering Ian's room she wondered what other criminals were hiding here right under nose.

            It was more a vibration, then a presence he decided.  He had felt it before, and it was natural given the fractured symbiosis between the wielder and the witchblade.  He moved back from the door of his room and sat down again in the middle of a bamboo mat on the floor.  She had no way of finding this place, no cop does.  The exorbitant fees weren't for the atmosphere or the services, they were for the anonymity.  He mentally went through the list of things he still had to do.  Slowly he allowed himself to recognize that his concentration was shot, and that Sara had been the cause.  That part of his life…his wife, his son….it had been closed off for so long.  The green gem he always had so close to him began to glow, and though he attempted to resist, it pulled him into the memory he tried so hard to bury.

            The desert marketplace was crowded, as it usually was near the end of the week.  His wife was a few stalls ahead admiring a small sword with a gold engraved scabbard that she wanted to surprise him with for his birthday.  Smiling to himself he pretended not to notice, and instead turned his glance to Samuel, his seven year old son who had wandered a few stalls away from her to admire the wares of a candy seller.  

            It is the painful memories that are the clearest, he could almost feel the heat of the mid-day sun as it beat down upon his head.  He could smell the perfume of the woman who walked by him, her auburn hair tied neatly under a wide brimmed hat.  Her expressive green eyes determined and focused on a point somewhere beyond him.  That was all it took, that brief moment of distraction.  A man on a large black horse came barreling through the market place, seemingly in chase of the woman.  Samuel had just decided to return to his mother, clutching a piece of candy that the merchant had given him.  His wife having heard the commotion turned to look over at her son at the same time as her husband did…moving as he did…diving as he did…to protect their son from the careless horseman…  Genesis fell short, blocked by a water carrier and his mule.  They entered the next life without him.'

            He shook his head as he came out of his vision.  'That was the past' he thought, 'buried and done with, under the sands of time.'  Sighing he scratched his head.  'The wielder is stubborn, if I cannot bring her around to my way of thinking, and if I remain unable to reach the blade…'  He tented his palms against his lips as if in prayer.

            "It has still not come to that" he said aloud.  "I may yet prevail."  Looking up at a photograph he had pinned to the wall, he frowned.  "But first I must deal with the Paladin."

            'It would be morning by now' thought Sara, rousing from a short doze.  She looked at her watch which read 7:34am.  'Though you'd never know it down here.'  She blinked and tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness in the room.  She had turned off the table lamp earlier, preferring to sit in the dark as she watched over Nottingham.  'At least he had had the good sense to get shot on a Friday' she mused.

            The next thing she noticed was that Nottingham was not in his bed, but rather sitting on the floor in the center of the room with his eyes closed.

            "Good morning Sara," he said, opening his eyes and looking over at her.

            How he did that she still didn't know, it was as if he could sense whenever her thoughts turned towards him in the slightest.  Sara briefly lowered her eyes, hoping he wasn't able to sense what she was thinking right now…sitting there bare-chested as he was, his hair hanging loosely about his shoulders.

            "How are you feeling?" she asked, in an attempt to distract herself.

            "Much better, thank you" he said, an almost non-existent grin playing about his lips.

            She came over and knelt in front of him.  "Let me see" she said peeling back the square band-aid on his stomach.  The wound was still quite ugly with yellow and purple bruising around the stitches but it looked well on it's way towards healing.  "This is amazing Ian, last night you were almost comatose…and now you…  Her voice caught in her throat and she looked down at her hands.  "I thought I was going to lose you," she said quietly.

            Ian gently took her face in his hand and briefly placed his lips against hers.  They were soft and warm and he rubbed his thumb against her cheek as he pulled away.

            "What was that for?" she whispered.

            Ian's eyes softened with concern as he looked at her.  ''You seemed to need it," he said, then stood and walked over to his closet.

            Sara knelt there for a moment at a loss for words, floored by the emotions the simple gesture had inspired.

            "Nottingham?" she said, when she was finally able to speak.

            "Yes" he answered, pulling on a black sweater, and tying back his hair.

            "What happened last night?"  She turned to face him, going from her knees into a sitting position.  "I mean what really happened between you and Jake?"

            Nottingham paused, there was so much about her partner, that Sara did not know, that she would not accept as more than the mindless ramblings of a jealous fool.  'Which I am" he thought, 'insanely jealous.'

            As if she could read his mind she said, "You saw us together, didn't you?  Through the window."

            Nottingham nodded, closing his eyes against the image of Sara in Jakes arms. "What would you think of me if I told you that I wanted to die?" he said quietly.  "That I went in search of McCarty in hope of a confrontation.  That I dishonored my "giri*" by pretending to be weak."

            Sara stood and came towards him.  "I would say that you were human," she answered.  "A trifle melodramatic for sure, but who of us isn't at times?"  She crossed her arms and looked away from him.  "As for me and Jake…that was a mistake you know?  I mean I'm sure even he knows it…really."

            Nottingham put his hands in his pockets and stared at his feet.  "There are moments…when I see us…in another place... or perhaps another life.  In a field of green, that seems to go on forever.  And when you look at me… it is without fear, or hesitation."  Ian looked deep into Sara's eyes.  "It is in these moments beloved, that I find the peace that allows me to go on without you.  To always remain two steps behind. To praise your accomplishments with silent cheers and wish you success, prosperity and even… love."  Nottingham lowered his head again.  "I can wait for you Sara…" he said, "a thousand lifetimes if necessary…for it was for you I was born."

            Sara placed her arms around Ian's neck, cradling his head she kissed his forehead, and each of his eyelids, then turned away from him so that he would not see her tears.

            "What was that for Sara?" he asked gently.

            "You seemed to need it," she replied and then quickly left the room, closing the door firmly behind her.

*Giri – sense of duty


	16. Masayume

Chapter 16: Masayume

            Kenneth Irons sat at a book covered table in his library.  It was the same place he had spent most of the last week and a half, labouring endlessly since he had discovered the secret of the witchblade.  The missing gem was why the periculum had not been complete and why he still had a small but persistent link to the irrepressible Ms. Pezzini.  If he could find this gem he had a chance to gain control over the wielder and perhaps the blade itself.  He had been searching his texts for days, leaving the running of his vast company to it's various presidents and shareholders; unconcerned with the results of the decisions they would make in his absence.    Pouring over accounts of sightings and battles involving the witchblade he searched for the instance in which the stone had been fractured.

            "Mr. Irons?" came a small voice from behind him.

            "What is it?" he said not bothering to raise his head.

            "A Mr. Bowman is here to see you," said the maid opening the door to the library a little wider.

            Irons looked up and then stood abruptly.  "Send him in" he instructed, straightening his suit and tie and running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to look proper.

            Gabriel entered the room and the maid closed the door behind him.  He held a large book in his hands that Kenneth reached out to receive as he came over.

            "Is that it?"

            "Uh…ya" said Gabriel, a little shocked at Iron's appearance.  His eyes were red and slightly puffy, and he had several days of growth on his chin and cheeks.  "Late night?"

            Kenneth smiled in spite of himself, he could only imagine what he looked like, having all but gone to the bathroom in the library for the past several days.  "Yes, exactly," he answered, taking the book as Gabriel handed it to him.  He ran his hand over the cover.  "Would you like to wait for a check?"

            "No" said Gabriel, "I'll just send you the bill…the rather large bill."

            Kenneth nodded.  "How were you able to acquire it so quickly?"

            "Easy" said Gabriel turning to leave.  "I'm the best at what I do."  He opened the door to the hallway as Iron's called over to him.

            "I wonder Mr. Bowman…if you have given any thought to our other discussion that evening…regarding a certain female police officer?"

            Gabriel turned back towards him and took a deep breath.  "Yes Mr. Irons, I have" he began.  "And I'm sorry but I can't help you."  Irons stared at Gabriel with piercingly blue though bloodshot eyes.  "Cause the loyalty I have to my friends and contacts is part of how I stay the best…you know."  He winked at Iron's before exiting the room and closing the door behind him.  Leaning against it for a moment he closed his eyes and exhaled. He had just said "no" to Kenneth Irons…and without passing out or throwing up.  He stood up and headed for the front hall, wondering how long it would be before Irons sent Nottingham after him.  Smiling at a pretty maid as he left the mansion he thought, "Never a dull moment."

            Jake awoke on Sara's couch.  He had waited for her after cleaning up the blood in the bathroom and a plant she must have overturned on her way out.  'With him' he thought bitterly.  'The guy who sought me out and baited me into a fight…for what?  Sara's sympathy?' 

This Ian Nottingham was becoming a real pain in the ass.  'It's because of him, that Sara doesn't want me,' he thought. 'It's because of him, that my jaw hurt's like a bitch and my ears are still ringing, it's because of him that I'm…'  Jake closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.'…still alive.'  No matter how he looked at it, or how many times he replayed the scene in his mind, the reality was that last night Nottingham had saved his life.

            The black sedan had slowed down as it approached them, taking out their frustrations on each other.  He hadn't even noticed until it was right next to them, but Nottingham had.  He moved with unbelievable speed, pinning Jake down as a hail of bullets came from one of the car windows.  As Ian caught or deflected most of them, Jake had scrambled away; realizing that they were after him as he drew their fire when he moved.  Pulling out his service weapon he prepared to return fire, but Nottingham was already on top of the car emptying two clips through the roof of the sedan.  He leapt off the back as the car peeled away, landing in front of Jake who watched the vehicle turn down a side street and speed out of sight.

            "Nottingham…I…" Jake began, still trying to catch his breath.

            But Ian wasn't interested, there was a brief look of sadness on his face that Jake suspected was what had put the apparent spell on Sara, and then he hid his weapons back beneath his coat and walked away.

            'I didn't realize he'd been hit,' thought Jake, leaning against the back of the couch.  He found himself wondering if Nottingham was alright.  Obviously he didn't like the guy, but that didn't mean he wanted him dead…not really anyway.

            'What did it matter?' he realized, he had bigger problems to deal with right now.  He had described the shooting as random gang violence in his police report but the truth was someone wanted him dead, and he had a nagging suspicion he knew who it was.

            "Your kind are always so easy to find," said Genesis stepping out from behind a large tombstone.  "One need only follow the stench of death to find you lapping up the aromas of something you are unable to perceive."

            "There is some comfort to be had" replied Lazar.  "In knowing that I shall still remain, after you have long since turned to dust and your flimsy quest for power has but evaporated."

            Lazar threw a handful of crumbs to the birds in front of him, and Genesis laughed.  "You do not see my future, old man.  My destiny is as incomprehensible to you as this idea of death you so badly seek."

            Lazar blew warmth on fingers and pulled his coat tighter around him.  "All doubt at times," he said, "but I need only look upon the wielder's face, and it vanishes on the wind like your useless taunts and threats."

            Genesis smiled tightly.  "Very soon, you will look upon her and find nothing but the freedom from your curse."

It was Lazars turn to laugh now.  "Surely you jest," he said looking up into his enemy's face.  "He will not allow it."

            "The knight?" sneered Genesis.  "Is inconsequential."

            "You know of 'the word' , said Lazar.  "You could never have come this far if you didn't.  He is the man, born of pure heart and damned soul, again and again… and it is in this life that he will find redemption."

            Genesis pulled his hood over his head and turned to leave.  "All he will find is oblivion," he spat.  "The word will be rewritten Grigori, in the blood of all your kind, and I shall be the pen."

            Lazar watched him go, and while he showed no outward emotion, he could not help the smidgen of fear he felt inside.  Would the wielder and her knight be ready?  Very soon all would know.

            Cyan Mobius, reloaded her weapon and fired 10 shots into the target in front of her.  Two went wide.

            "You're still pulling to the left" said Nottingham from behind her.

            She put down her weapon and removed her ear protectors.  "You're still here."

Nottingham stepped forward and picked up her weapon and began checking it over.  "Or perhaps it is damaged" he continued.  "You're not still using it as nut cracker are you?"

            Cyan grabbed it back from him protectively.  "No," she said angrily.

            Ian raised his eyebrows and Cyan who couldn't hold her scowl began to laugh.

            Hugging him tightly she asked,  "Why is it that I only see you, when you're on deaths doorstep?"

            "Nature of our business I suspect," answered Ian.

            She let go of him.  "Perhaps we should find another line of work."

            Nottingham gave her a tired smile.  "If only it were that simple."

            Cyan pulled the clip from her gun and reloaded it with another.  "You sound like my brother," she said.

            "A compliment no doubt."

            "I don't see how" said Cyan, pushing the button to bring up another target card.  "He was insane."  She raised her weapon.  "And he's dead."

            Ian didn't say anything, but his silence spoke volumes.

            Cyan lowered her gun, instantly feeling guilty for bringing it up.  She was the only person who knew of the internal guilt that Ian struggled with for having killed his "brothers".  Not that he had any choice in the matter.  Each had become unstable from their training, save Nottingham who seemed to have an unnatural ability for self control.  Her brother Hector had held out the longest but even he had eventually succumbed to madness.  

            The moment they became a threat to Mr. Irons, one time benefactor and surrogate father to these men, he systematically had them eliminated.  This is in fact what had brought Cyan back into Nottingham's life.  Having known him years ago as a friend and colleague of her older brother, she soon became interested in reacquainting herself with him in order to seek revenge for the death of her sibling.

            "That night" said Cyan, "on the rooftop… you told me to do as I wish."

            Nottingham lowered his eyes.

            "Would you really have allowed me kill you?"

            Nottingham shrugged, flashing back to the memory that night of watching Sara and her lover Conchobar through her window.  "I was having a bad day," he muttered.

            Cyan flashed back as well, to the scene through Sara's window and the pain it had created on Nottingham's face.  "One of many I'm sure" she said giving him a small smile.

            "You have no idea" he replied.

            'Which was true' she thought, for he was rare to discuss his feelings for the wielder with more than grunts of impatience and sighs of longing.  "All that is worth attaining is difficult in the task" she offered.

            "Difficult" said Nottingham, "try damn near impossible."

            Cyan laughed, it was odd to hear Nottingham swear, this Sara was obviously rubbing off on him.  "I know what will make you feel better" she said, walking over to the wall behind them.  She punched a code into a security pad, and a section of the wall opened, revealing a small arsenal of weapons. (small like in enough to start a minor war).

            Ian's face immediately lit up, and he stepped over to the wall to admire the display.

Another security agent came into the firing range and handed Cyan a large envelope.

            "This came for you" he said, eyeing Ian carefully.  Nottingham's reputation preceded him and the idea of him standing in front of the weapons wall looking like a kid in a candy store made the security guard more then a little nervous.  Even more nervous than the strange hooded man on level 3B.  He had accidentally bumped into him this morning while making his rounds, and the man had given him a glare that he was sure had taken years off of his life.

            "You alright Ben?" asked Cyan.  "You look a little pale."

            "Yah I'm fine" said Ben quickly.  "I'll see you later."  He gave Cyan a small nod and then left the room.

            Cyan opened the envelope, inside was a piece of paper with a bank account number on it and a photograph.  She sighed and closed it again.  "Duty calls" she said looking over at Nottingham, who had taken several guns off the wall and was now contentedly loading them.  There was definitely some built up frustration he needed to release and the scene last night with Jake had only served to "break the seal."  

            'Maybe I can't kill McCarty for being an annoying, honour-less, thorn in my side' he thought gingerly.  'But I can sure as hell kill the crap out of these targets.'  He looked up and grinned over at Cyan, then put on his ear protection.

            "Play nice," said Cyan as she turned to leave.  But Nottingham didn't even hear her, he was already pushing the button for the first target.

            Gabriel sat smiling comfortably in his recliner.  Smiling because it was late Saturday morning and his favourite cartoons were on, comfortable because he was just in his underwear and the sun streaming through the window made it feel more like summer than winter.  He closed his eyes, seemingly just for a moment and he was quickly fast asleep.

            "Wake up, wake up" said a muffled voice.

            Gabriel shifted a little, and then rolled over.

            "Come on hurry," said the voice "she's coming"

            Gabriel opened his eyes.  Something wasn't right about the voice that was speaking to him.  He looked around the room, adjusting his eyes to light that was streaming in from the doorway,  where a small girl was crouched and looking out.

            "Who's coming?" he asked, rubbing his eyes "and how did you get in…"  Gabriel stopped, instinctively placing his hand over his mouth.  'That didn't really just happen did it?' he thought.  He uncovered his mouth and whispered …hello?.  'Holy shit' he thought covering his mouth again.  'He was speaking Japanese, that's what was wrong with the girl's voice, she wasn't speaking English…AND he had understood her.

            "She will not be happy, if you do not come to greet her" said the small girl, who Gabriel now noticed was indeed Japanese, and dressed in a baby blue kimono…quite…similar…to the one he was…  He jumped up and looked down at himself, something wasn't right.  He was obviously Gabriel on the inside, but on the outside, he appeared to be…

            "Hikaru come on!" said the child and then bounded outside.

            Gabriel reasoned that he must be dreaming and opted to play along.  "When in Rome…"  he said, smiling at the sound of it, as he stepped outside and into the sun.

            The small child (which he realized he knew her name to be Usagi) was standing beside a woman who was hitching a horse to a post.  Usagi was babbling nonstop with excitement, and the woman was looking down at her listening attentively, as if she was the most important person in the world.  When Usagi saw Hikaru/Gabriel standing on the steps she pointed at him.

            "There he is, Mr. Lazybones…I told him you were coming, but he wouldn't wake up"

            The woman smiled at the child and then looked up at Gabriel.  "Konnichiha Hikaru...or should I say Mr. Lazybones"

            Gabriel was stunned, this women who was speaking what he could only assume was flawless Japanese looked exactly like Sara Pezzini.  'Now I know I'm dreaming,' he thought 'how long till the funky base line drops in, and she starts pulling those pins out of her hair.'

            Gabriel's thoughts were interrupted as he realized that both Sara and Usagi were staring at him.  "Oh, jeez…I didn't say that out loud did I?" he stammered.

            Sara's smile did not falter and Usagi tugged on her sleeve.  "Brother's are so dumb, why couldn't I have had a sister instead?" she asked.

            "Think of it as a test of character" said Sara looking down at her.  "Now come inside so I can show you what the Princess sent you"  She swung the giggling girl over her shoulder and started up the steps and into the modest home.

            As Gabriel moved out of the way to let them in, his eye caught a red gleam peeking out from Sara's sleeve.  'The witchblade' he thought, 'that explains it…well sort of,  I guess it's more of a vision then a dream.'  He followed them into the house, wondering what it was the witchblade wanted to tell him.

            Sara and Usagi sat at a low table going through one of her bags.  A woman came out from behind a sliding wall, and placed tea on the table.  Sara nodded at her and the women smiled and left the room.  Gabriel observed Sara's manner and clothing, she seemed very much at home, and yet she obviously was not from here.  'Here being Japan' he figured, looking out the back window at the green hills off in the distance.  He had already observed his appearance in a bucket of water on the porch and had been floored by the stranger he saw reflected back at him.  He was a young man maybe 16 or 17 clearly of Japanese descent, with features quite similar to the young girl who had said she was sister.

            Sara on the other hand, looked pretty much the same.  Her dark auburn hair was pulled back into a severe bun, and her green eyes still flashed with fire.  She was a little paler than he remembered, but other than that she was virtually identical.  He saw the blade on her wrist swirl a little and suddenly he understood why.  Sara or "Tomoe" as she had been named here, was the daughter of a foreign man who was an advisor to the Emperor.  She had been raised and schooled with the Royal family and when her father was killed she was taken in as if she had indeed been the actual daughter of the Emperor.  Gabriel knew nothing of her mother, the witchblade did not think it pertinent information, he guessed.  Over the years Sara/Tomoe excelled in academics, healing and weaponry.  She was better than most men with a bow and sword and was quickly becoming legend throughout the hillsides of Japan.  She had risen to the rank of Samurai, which few women ever did and had sworn her allegiance to her 'adoptive' father's throne.

            Usagi and himself were not her children he realized, but were the son and daughter of Akio, her best friend who had died in battle last year.  Their mother had died years ago so when they had lost their father they had had no one.  Sara/Tomoe had come to their rescue, moving into their home to raise and take care of them.

            Gabriel looked up as he thought he heard another horse outside.  Sara was up in a second and at the door to view who was approaching.  A lone man on a black horse rode up the path and Sara went out to meet him while Usagi and Gabriel watched from the door.  The man got off his horse and tied it to the post next to Sara's.

            "Good day stranger" said Sara "How is it that we may help you?"  she stepped closer to him as he turned around to face her.  He had a sword at his side and one across his back, and he wore a black cloth that covered most of his face.  Pulling it down he pulled Sara into his arms and pressed his lips against hers.

            "Is that how you greet all strangers?" he asked as he pulled away slightly.

            "Pretty much" she grinned "of course unless they're really cute then I…"

            Sara's words were cut off as Yoshinaka/Nottingham kissed her again, attempting to satisfy the longing he'd been carrying around for the last three months without her.

            'Figures' thought Gabriel as he went back inside.  'They'll always go for the tall, dark and handsome guy with the deadly skills and a nicer car…or horse.'

            He awoke suddenly back in his apartment/shop his hand sitting in the bowl of cereal on the table next to him.  "Whoa, " he said.  "Some trip."  He got up and went into the bathroom.  'That couldn't have been all I was meant to see,' he thought 'could it?'  He decided he would look up this Tomoe Gozen when he got out of the shower.  His hand went to the back of his head, and he ran his fingers through his short curls.  Even though he knew it was just a dream/vision he kinda missed having Hikaru's hair.  'Maybe I should grow it out' he thought looking at himself in the mirror.  "That pony tail was hot."


	17. The other shoe

A/N:  Because I love you guys, I'm posting before I head off to work.  (Plus I couldn't sleep very well, because I ate too much chocolate before going to bed…sigh)

Chapter 17:  The other shoe

            Nottingham walked through the hallways of "the Cornea" back towards his room.  The firing range had sated him temporarily, but he now felt an urge to return to Irons and find Sara.  Walking past the rooms on level 3B, he felt a strange vibration.  Stopping, he closed his eyes, and tried to sense where it was coming from.  It was the room at the end of the hall.  After making sure that the hallway was clear and listening for any sign of movement within, he picked the lock and entered the room, closing the door behind him.  It was completely dark but Ian's eyes quickly adjusted to his surroundings.  There was a bamboo mat in the middle of the floor, various candles and papers on a desk in the corner and photographs stuck to the wall.  A few of the photos had been removed Ian noted, but one of the ones that remained was of Sara.  He stared at the picture for a moment studying the wielder.  She was standing on the street holding her signature cup of coffee; her head was slightly turned behind her as if someone had just called her name.  It was quite similar to many of the ones he himself had taken, and he felt an urge to take it with him.  He stretched out to touch the picture, simultaneously wondering where she was.  He could have reached out to find her, but she might sense him if he did, and he had a feeling she wanted to be alone.  Nottingham went through the papers on the desk finding boarding passes from Africa and Asia mixed in with receipts and a few newspapers.

            There was a small red book on the table as well, that was filled with tiny handwriting.  A journal or diary, Ian assumed.  Stuck inside was a tattoo template of an ancient rune.  Nottingham's eyes narrowed as he realized what it was.  He pocketed the book knowing that Genesis would no doubt know he had been here when he returned, and that there was no use in trying to hide it.  Then grabbing the photo of Sara off the wall he turned and left the room.  Using his thoughts he probed for Sara's location, his need to find her safe more important than her need for privacy.  Frowning slightly he stopped when he sensed her, she was driving through the city, over the Brooklyn bridge to be exact, and she was in his car.

            A security guard came around the corner just then and Nottingham turned to him.  "I wonder" he asked, "Would you be able to call me a cab?"

            Kenneth Irons was sweating profusely.  It had taken a lot of energy to use the Mehinaku dream stone.  He couldn't even really be sure it had worked, if the seeds of doubt had been indeed planted in Gabriel's mind.

            He had been livid, when Mr. Bowman had said no to him.  He hid it well of course, one does not become a billionaire by throwing tantrums whenever things don't go your way; but inside he was seething.  He was rich and powerful; he dressed well and had impeccable manners.  He was handsome and tall and he even had blue eyes.  'What more did it take' he thought 'Why would anyone want to say "no" to me?'

            He would change Gabriel's mind he decided, on principle alone.  He was fairly confident that he would be able to get back the witchblade without his help, but he needed to teach Mr. Bowman the error of his ways.  

            'All lives are connected,' he thought.  'The same souls meet again and again throughout eternity.  At some point in time we have all failed or betrayed one that we love.'  He had instructed the stone to show Gabriel a past life with the wielder, one in which he felt responsible for her fate.

            Placing the dream stone back into its display case, Irons wrinkled his nose at the odour he realized, he himself was emitting.  'A bath would relax him' he thought, using the intercom to buzz for Helena.

            "Yes Mr. Irons" came a sultry voice through the speaker.

            Irons grinned with anticipation, 'and if the bath didn't, Helena certainly would.  She was not familiar with the meaning of the word no.'

            Sara tapped her fingers on the steering wheel to the music on the radio.  She was surprisingly enjoying Nottingham's ride, and really wasn't looking forward to giving it back.  Normally she hated SUV's, they seemed like cars for bullies and just didn't give you the handling of a bike.  But Ian's X5 was actually quite impressive and was perfect for winter driving, though it no doubt had a lot of after market modifications.  Switching on the seat heater, she sighed loudly.  This was almost criminal she decided, no ones ass should feel this loved.   Feeling a sudden twinge of guilt she promised to show her Buell some extra attention the second the weather let up.  

            Sara's cell phone began to ring and she answered it quickly.  "Pezzini…go."

            "Sara? What the hell is going on?" said Vicky

            "Vicky…what's wrong?"

            "What's wrong?  How about what your friend Nottingham did to Jake's face."

            Sara rolled her eyes.  'Of course Jake would be looking for sympathy, and knew Vicky was the place to get it.  She'd almost be impressed if she wasn't so annoyed.'  "Listen Vicky, I don't really have all the details on what happened so I…"

            "Jake says he attacked him, totally unprovoked …"

            "Well I don't know about that" Sara interjected.  'Why was she defending him?' she thought 'It basically was unprovoked…'

            'Because, you care…' said a voice from somewhere within.  'Your starting to let him in…'

            "Look Vicky" said Sara, ignoring the small voice inside of her,  "I'm kinda in the middle of something, but I'll stop by when I'm done okay."

            "Sara I..."

            "Later Vic okay?"   She hung up the phone as she pulled into the cemetery.  Parking the vehicle she grabbed the flowers off the passenger seat and got out of the car.

            Cyan sat in her office on the computer.  She logged on to the Swiss bank account the number in the envelope had stated and transferred the $50,000 into her account.  She took the picture out of the envelope again and put it on the table beside the file she had obtained from archives.  If you were anybody in this city from a businessman to a lowly thug, you probably had a file in the archives.  This one had been easy to find.  Jake McCarty was FBI masquerading around as a rookie police officer.  The file also hinted at some connections to the CIA, but was unspecific.  'Not that it mattered' she thought grimly, settling into the aura of indifference necessary for her to do her job.  'Soon his only connection would be to his grave.'

            Vicky came into the bathroom where Jake was stripped down to the waist and inspecting the bruise on the left of his upper chest.  'Any harder and he could of killed me' he thought.

            "Here let me see' said Vicky sliding in between him and the sink.  She opened the container of cream she had in her hand and smiled at the look of doubt on his face.

            "It's an ancient Chinese secret so says my acupuncturist, I swear by this stuff Jake."  He sniffed at it hesitantly.  "It's how I get rid of all my cuts and bruises."

            "Which you get how…?" he asked.

            Vicky smiled at him.  "Wouldn't you like to know?"  She propped herself up on the counter and began to spread the cream over the bruises and cuts on Jakes chest and back.

            "I gotta tell you Jake" she said when his back was towards her.  "I feel like you're not being completely honest with me about this fight.  I mean did he really attack you for no reason?"

            She felt him tense a little as he thought about how best to answer.  "If you don't want to talk about it…I mean I understand."

            "It's not that Vic," said Jake turning around to face her.  "It's just that…"  He stopped when he looked at her and I mean really looked at her.  And for the first time (though he had a feeling it had most likely been there before) he actually saw it.  It was probably the same thing that Sara saw when she looked at him, though maybe not to this extent.  Vicky was in love with him.  The compliments, the jokes, the extra shifts and phone calls from the morgue, the way she would touch his arm when he was near…they all pointed to the same thing.  Vicky seemed to sense what he was seeing, her face began to redden and she lowered her gaze.

            "Aw Vic" he said softly.

            She slid down off the counter careful not to touch him as she stepped past.  "Don't sweat it McCarty, I don't have any grand illusions about love…I just"

            She stopped as he grabbed her arm to prevent her from leaving.  The difference between him and Sara was that he was willing to take a chance.  You can't live your life closed off from people because you're afraid of getting hurt.  If losing Cynthia had taught him anything it was that.  Life was too short to be timid and too long to spend alone.  He pulled Vicky into his arms, his lips finding hers and cutting off her insistence that Jake was no big deal to her.  'Sometimes you just gotta roll the dice' Sara had often told him.   He silently wished she was able to take her own advice.

            "I really miss you, you know," said Sara, sitting in front of her ex-partners grave.  "I could really use some that "Woo wisdom" right about now.  She wiped some of the snow off the tombstone and placed the yellow flowers on top of it.  "I know I always seem like the unreachable and untouchable Sara Pezzini, always on top of her game, uncompromisingly focused and ready….but the truth is… that I'm… really drowning here without you Dan."  Feeling the sting of tears forming in her eyes she blinked rapidly to hold them back.

            "I was closed off before I met…" Sara stopped; she found it difficult to say his name.  It had been 6 months since Conchobar had died, but that didn't make it much easier.  Taking a deep breath she continued, "But some how, John was able to get through and it was like…perfect, like we were meant to be you know."  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.  "But I guess nothing really last's forever does it?"  Tracing the grooves in the headstone with her finger Sara forced herself to keep talking.

"When he died, I didn't think I'd be able to go on…to go on losing the people that I loved, after you and Maria and my father.  And I blamed him Danny, for letting me lose John, because if he was supposed to be my protector, then that meant more than watching my back, he should have also been protecting my heart..…you can't live without your heart" she whispered, lowering her head and allowing her tears to spill onto her lap.   "He took this abuse, that came from my eyes when not from my mouth, never failing to still stand behind me.  To be there when I needed him, even when I thought I didn't."

            Leaning forward, she drew her jacket tighter around her in an attempt to ward off the cold.  "It's different then with John, different then with anyone I've ever been with" said Sara thoughtfully "and maybe that's what scares me.  With John it was like an unquenchable desire a… fire, consuming me, consuming us both."  She rubbed her palms against her thighs suddenly feeling foolish unburdening herself to a tombstone.  And yet he was all she had, maybe all she ever had.  Danny was the only one she always felt she could tell anything to.  Sighing softly she continued.  "But with Nottingham  I…" Sara struggled to find the right words.  "In Ian I find… peace."  She closed her eyes as she said it finally allowing herself to accept the truth.  If it were possible to find heaven in another person, to calm a restlessness of the soul and bring contentment to the heart, then Ian Nottingham was all of this to her.  

            The blade on her wrist suddenly began to heat up and Sara quickly looked around the cemetery for the reason.  Striding towards her with fierce determination in his eyes was Genesis, and not the vision that appeared in her apartment or haunted her dreams but the real flesh and blood man.  Sara was terrified but equally determined to hide that fact from him.  Standing she transformed the blade into it's gloved form ready to go down fighting. 

            "We are short on time" said Genesis stopping in front of her.

            "Really?" said Sara checking her watch, "it still looks early to me."

            "I would have made you a God Sara, forced the world to bow at your feet."

            "Not interested buddy, I prefer to look people in the eye."

            Genesis grinned.  "You'll come around" he returned and raised his hand.

            Sara's body was instantly wracked with pain, it felt as if every fiber of her being was attempting to separate from her.  As she levitated off the ground, her chest raised and spine arched backwards her arms flailed wide and her eyes rolled up into the back of her head.  Unable to stand the agony Genesis was inflicting on her any longer she ultimately let loose the scream she was so desperately trying to hold in.  

            The scream echoed like thunder across the city, causing all those who heard it to look up into the sky with wonder.  Nottingham who had just returned home, heard it echoing from Iron's bedroom and dashed up the stairs to check on his father.  He found him sprawled out on the floor whimpering softly.  Quickly he fell to his knees beside him and pulled him into his arms.

            "Father" called Ian, "Father what has happened?"

            "…gone" moaned Kenneth "…she's gone."

            Ian didn't understand, surely he couldn't mean the wielder, he had reached out to her only a short time ago….

            Closing his eyes, he felt for her presence but found nothing.  "No" said Ian, "this can't be."  He tried again, pushing his mind to the furthest parts of the city, looking for some sort of trace.

            "…gone" repeated Kenneth, closing his eyes "…gone."

            Nottingham lowered his head, resting his forehead against his fathers.  From the corner of his eye, he saw the blue gem in his ring flash once and then go dark.  And in his heart he knew it was true.


	18. Lull

A/N:  Hope everyone's still with me and not too confused or annoyed with my flow.  I know I've created a lot of questions, but don't worry, even some of the stranger and seemingly insignificant stuff that's happened will be tied into the story eventually.  So buckle up and hold on…cause we ain't done yet.

Chapter 18: Lull

            Ian climbed up Sara's fire escape as he had done so many times before.  'But it would be different this time,' he told himself, 'because she won't be there.'  He sighed as he reached the window and gazed into the empty apartment, 'and she won't be coming.'  

He had driven around the city after leaving Dr. Immo to tend to his father, searching for the slightest trace of her essence.  But he had found nothing, not even his car; the locater Irons had placed in it removed or not working.  It was as if she had just up and vanished into thin air and he was pretty sure he knew who was responsible.  

            Back at the Cornea, Genesis' room had been abandoned, and anything that might have given hint to his current whereabouts had been burned to ashes in the garbage can.  

Stepping through the window he closed his eyes as he caught her scent.  It clung to all her things, subtle and yet overpowering all at once.  If he tried really hard he could almost imagine her there in front of him, throwing her jacket onto the couch and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

            "What do you want Nottingham?"  she asked angrily.

            He slowly opened his eyes dismayed to find that it had been he himself who spoke the words and not the vision of Sara he had imagined and was now fading into the darkness of the kitchen.

            He had failed her.  The words echoed through his skull, and resounded in his heart.  If it had been painful to remain apart from her, to forever be resigned to skulking in her shadows.  Then to not see… or smell…. or sense her at all… was unbearable.  

            He picked up a delicate negligee off the corner of her bed holding it close to his face, breathing in her scent.  Normally she had worn a simple tank top and underwear to sleep, but after meeting Conchobar she had decided to add to her wardrobe.  Ian remembered her standing in front of her full length mirror, her hands on her hips, her head slightly bent.  She had pinned her hair up in anticipation of a bath, and a few strands hung loosely curled around her neck.  He remembered the slight flush that had risen on her face as she realized the sheerness of the material.  It had left nothing to Ian's ample imagination.

            His breath caught on a sob, as he realized that his imagination and meager memories were now all he would ever have.  Sinking to the floor at the foot of her bed, he lowered his head finally allowing himself to succumb to the tears he was unable to shed in front of his father.

            "Hey Sara, it's Gabriel, you're not gonna believe the dream I had today.  It involved you, Ancient Japan and a… certain piece of jewelry.  Have I peaked your interest?  Cause lemme tell you it was definitely hell'a weird.  And relax, you kept all your clothes on.  Anyway, I looked up some stuff that had to do with it and I wanted to show it to you when you have a minute.  Give me a call when you get a chance 'kay.  Lates.  Bye.

            Gabriel hung up the phone, and turned back to the computer.  The stuff he'd dug up on this Tomoe Gozen was pretty interesting, but he still didn't understand what it all had to do with him, or how the witchblade had even been able to connect with him in the first place.

            Glancing over at the television, he noticed a very agitated man being interviewed on the news.   Picking up the remote he un-muted the volume.

            "…it's coming man, I mean you heard it, as clearly as I did."

            "Heard what exactly" asked the reporter

            "The scream" snapped the man.  "Like the horn that signals the coming of the apocalypse."  He started pacing back and forth, pointing at various people who were milling around.  "It's time man…it's time" he said.  "Time to recant…to repent and beg for mercy.  Death will look upon us all and we shall be judged man…all of us."  The camera panned back to the reporter , 

            "Well there you have it folks another eye witness account about the mysterious noise that echoed across the city this afternoon.  Dozens of people have been calling into the station, each to give their version of what they heard…but at this point we have no official word of any type of problem in the city.  Some officials believe it was from a water pipe burst that happened underground just a few blocks north of here, but there has been no final word yet on whether or not that is the case. In possibly related news meteorologists here at Channel 7 are sending out a winter storm advisory.  The city is looking to receive anywhere from 3 to 10 ft of snow and are advising everyone to…"

            Gabriel muted the TV again.  He had heard this "scream" as well and had reasonably assumed that it was just thunder.  "They'll try and make something out of anything" he said turning back to his computer.  "This just in…we're still stupid."

            "I told you, you were loud" said Jake motioning to the news with his head.

            "I'm not loud" murmured Vicky, intensely enjoying the foot massage Jake was giving her,    "I'm just enthusiastic."

            "I'll say" Jake whispered under his breath.

            Vicky whipped a pillow at his side of the couch, and it hit Jake square in the face.

            "Hey" he wined, "did you forget that I'm injured here."

            "How could I forget?" said Vicky, in her best soothe the baby voice.  "The boo boos are all over your face."

            "Well you're a doctor aren't you?" said Jake.  "Why don't you prescribe something?"

            Vicky smiled and crawled over into his lap.  Kissing him lightly on the cheek she asked "How's that?"

            "Gee I don't know' said Jake still pouting.

            Vicky kissed the other cheek.  "How about that?"

            "…pretty good…I guess."

            She took his face in her hands and softly feathered her lips against his.

            "Vic?" whispered Jake.

            "Mm Hmm" she mumbled, nuzzling the skin behind his ear.

            "I think I'm gonna need a higher dosage."

            Vicky laughed and gave her patient what he wanted.  Inside she hoped Sara would still be a while, or even not come at all.  The discussion about her stalker/friend could wait till tomorrow…or the next day…or the next.

            Irons sat quietly in an armchair by the window.  For the first time in many years he felt the condition of his advanced years.  'Old' he said to himself, 'old and confused'  he slowly rubbed his aching temples.  'Which I suppose is quite normal, for a man of my age.'   He sipped the herbal tea, Immo had suggested would relax him, knowing it would be the sedative the good doctor had slipped into it that would calm him as opposed to the actual jasmine.

            'What had happened to Sara?' was the question running through his head.  'Had the blade truly abandoned her… a true wielder?  Was she indeed dead? Her body left to rot in some dark alley, her name added to the city's list of unsolved mysteries.'  He stared unfocused through the sitting room window.  Unfortunately his connection to Ms. Pezzini had been through the blade alone and while he could still sense the jeweled bracelet's power, he was unable to feel her presence at all.

            A servant entered the room and whispered something into Kenneth's ear.

            "How long has he been down there?"

            "About 4 hours sir."

            "Send him to me"

            "Sir I…"

            "At least try not to show your fear Wesley" said Irons turning away from him.  "He will not hurt you…most likely."

            Wesley gulped nodded to Mr. Irons and left the room.

            Less then 10 minutes later Nottingham entered, the only tell tale sign the quiet squeak of the sitting room door as it opened and closed.

            Kenneth looked over at him, and was reminded of the past; when Ian was still a child and their relationship was still very much father and son instead of …master and servant.

            He was still covered in sweat from the long "work-out " he had inflicted upon himself, his hair having freed itself from it's elastic hanging about his shoulders.   'Only yesterday he would never have appeared in my presence so un-kept,' thought Kenneth.

            "Are you attempting to punish yourself?" he asked.

            "No" said Ian, not raising his head.

            "Work off some steam, vent your frustrations?"

            Ian did not answer.

            "What then?" asked Kenneth.  "Why do you train like a man possessed, when I am in no foreseeable danger…and you no longer have a wielder to protect."

            The words had their desired effect.  Ian briefly raised his head his eyes flashing with anger.  But he lowered it again as he spoke.

            "I am readying myself."

            Irons rubbed the back of his scarred hand slowly.  "For what?"

            It came as barely a whisper, in fact had Kenneth not been looking directly at him, he would have thought nothing was said at all.   "Revenge," breathed Ian.

            Kenneth turned away from him and closed his eyes.  "Listen to me Ian……son……Sara is gone, but the blade remains, it cannot be simply blinked out of existence…we need to press on, to find it before…"

            "I can't" interrupted Ian.  Irons opened his eyes.  "I can't just move on…and forget her.  I am not like you father…I can't just find her body and place it in some frozen shri…"  He stopped, struggling for self control.

            "Well go on Ian" said Irons coldly.  "I sense there is much more you wish to say."

            Ian was silent, knowing better than to grab at his father's bait.  

            But surprisingly enough Kenneth's voice softened  'It was more than an infatuation' he thought.  'Though I suppose I should not be surprised…given what he is to her.'

            "Because you loved her…" he said quietly, "I will allow you to go on."

Ian looked up, wary of the offer, and yet too devastated from his loss to pass it up.  "This could have been prevented" he hissed.  "This did not have to happen."

            "You believe this my fault?" said Irons, "and yet you train for revenge on him not me."

            "You should have let me tell her." 

            "That the blade was unstable?"

            "Yes" said Ian.  "That the sleepwalking and missing time was a result of this, that the accident was a result of this."  He turned towards him.  "Father I am… desolate,  I feel…"  Ian struggled for the word.

            "Forsaken..." said Kenneth softly.

            Ian stepped closer to Irons and knelt by his chair.  "I am at a loss…of what to do…"

            Irons placed his hand on Ian's head.  "Have I not always guided you? Pointed out your path?"

            Ian lowered his head.  "Yes."

            "This will not change Ian,  I alone know what is best for you.  You will have your revenge my son, but first we must find this Genesis and the witchblade.  Come to understand this power he had over the wielder and indeed what has happened to her."

            Ian's back straightened as years of discipline once again reasserted itself in his mind.

            "Bring him to me Ian," said Irons.  Ian stood and nodded slightly.  "Alive please," he added.  "Though I suppose wounded is acceptable."

            Ian left the room determined.  Genesis was a powerful man, his ability to overpower the wielder a sure sign of that fact.  But nothing in the universe is more powerful than desire.  And Ian's desire was growing exponentially by the minute.  Watchers all over the world were sensing it's vibration and hurrying to brace for the coming impact.

            Lazar looked out the window of his shop, the local news was calling for the storm of the century.  Sighing he shook his head,  "They have no idea."


	19. Assistance

A/N:  I know I know…What happened to Sara?  Where's Sara?  Is Sara okay? Don't worry, you'll get your hints next chapter…I promise.

Chapter 19: Assistance

            Genesis lay still in his cot.  Things had not actually gone as he had previously planned, and he was unsure of how he felt about it.  

What he had hoped was to show Sara her path, give her the jewel, watch her ascension and then spend the rest of his days faithfully serving at her side.  Instead he had found the wielder to be a strong and willful person unable to except the place that destiny had chosen for her.   Quite reluctant to toss off the shackles of daily life and become the deity she was meant to be.  

When the bright lady had shown him his path, he too had been temporarily resistant, so he did understand her hesitation.  But resistance as they say is futile.  Genesis sighed softly, 'One cannot change fate.'  The green gem enclosed in a fold among his robes reached out to this sentiment, throwing him once again into the past.

            Genesis (then called Jeff Davies) slowly moved across the sands.  Forcing himself to place one foot in front of the other, his body crying out in protest through the pain cursing through his legs and lungs.  'I will not give up,' he thought 'I will continue to move as long as the slightest life remains within my body.'

It was a legend, the fountain of the bright lady; a story made up hundreds of years ago and passed on to children at bedtime.  

            "The bright lady will look inside your soul, and if your desire is great enough she will grant your most wanted wish."  This had been what the old woman had said to him after his family's funeral. 

            "She waits for you lost one, at the temple of Charmaine"

            Jeff looked around the small cemetery.  Was this old woman talking to him.  "I'm sorry ma'am" he said politely "Were you speaking to me?"

            The old woman had smiled at him and placed a flower on his wife and sons grave.  "Follow the sun" she said and then slowly shuffled out of the cemetery and down the laneway.

            Jeff shook his head, confused by the old woman's words but too grief stricken to consider them for more than a moment.  It would take another week before he would learn of their meaning, in a small bar at the edge of town.

            "Charmaine?" said the bartender, pouring Jeff another drink.  "Which fool has been filling your head with such nonsense."

            "So it is nonsense?"

            "Myth, legend, nonsense, it is all the same thing"

            Jeff nodded and took a sip of his drink, motioning for the bartender to have another one ready.  

            The bartender poured it and then regarded his patron sadly.  'The man had suffered' he thought, 'this was true.'  But it was not just pain he was seeing in his eyes, there was also something else.  'Hopelessness' he thought, 'and a man with no hope will not last long in life.'

            "Still," the bartender continued, "all ancient stories are based in some fact".  He scratched his heavily bearded chin.  "In all probability, the temple does exist…I am not much of a history buff myself."

            Jeff raised his head, and the bartender laughed.

            "Of course this stuff of granting wishes…I am not so sure.  But if you did find the temple and the tale was true, pray tell what would you wish for?"

            Jeff flashed back to the image of his family being crushed by the horse, and closed his eyes.  His hands began to shake, and he had to put down his drink to keep from spilling it.  " I would wish to change the past… if it were true, if the temple did exist." he said quietly.

            The bartender nodded and then looked out the door at the desert that lay beyond the edge of the town.  "And this wish of yours…is it not worth the trouble of finding out?"

            Jeff followed the bartenders gaze to the sea of sand beyond the doorway.

            "Follow the sun." echoed slightly in his ears.

            A knock at the door pulled Genesis from his vision.

            "Come in," he said gruffly, sitting up and rubbing his head.

            The door opened a woman stepped into the room.  She was tall and well built, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and she held out a file to Genesis as she came in.

            "Here is what you asked for, he was quite easy to find."

            Genesis took the folder and flipped it open to see it's contents.  "He works for a…Kenneth Irons?"

            "Yes, the billionaire, he is quite known in most circles."

            "Unfortunately for me, I do not travel in these circles."

            The woman smiled.  "His company has it's claws in everything, media, pharmaceuticals, real estate, bio-technology, just to name a few.  He also has some very lucrative military contracts."

            "His connection to the blade?"

            "None that is apparent, though it would seem he has lived an unnaturally long life."

            Genesis read Iron's supposed age in the file and quietly agreed.  "You have not included a photo."

            "I didn't think it was necessary…he is not our immediate concern."

            Genesis nodded and suddenly looked very tired, he rubbed his temples and his eyes.

            "You should have called for me sooner" said the woman.

            "You are probably right."

            "I am always right."

            Genesis looked up at her and smiled.  "Do you believe you can deal with this?"

            "Are you giving me the honour?"

            He closed the file and placed it on a nearby table.  "I am currently occupied."

            "Then I accept."

            Genesis nodded and the woman turned to leave the room.  "Has there been any change?" she asked as she opened the door.

            "No not yet" came the quiet reply.

            She stopped for a moment and lowered her head.  "I would have died for you, you know" she said softly and then quickly left the room.

            Genesis opened the file again and looked down at the photograph of Nottingham.

            "You may still get the chance."

            The moment Gabriel had fallen asleep he found himself back in Japan.  He was sitting at a low table across from Yoshinaka with Usagi to his left and Sara to his right.  Sara was pouring tea and smiling while Usagi as usual blathered on at hundred miles an hour.

            "Will you teach me to fight this time Yoshinaka?  Tomoe says that I am still too little, but I can hold a sword and ride a horse, so I don't think so, what do you think Yoshinaka?"

            Yoshinaka placed his hand under her chin and smiled at her.  "I think that someone as beautiful as you, should not wish to be in battle, for I should never like to see a snarl replace the lovely smile upon your face."  Usagi smiled and climbed onto Yoshinaka's lap throwing her arms tightly around his neck and burying her face in his hair.

            "Do you really think I'm beautiful?" she asked.

            Yoshinaka smiled at Sara/Tomoe who gave him a quick look of thanks.  "Yes, little one" he said. "Of course I do."

            Gabriel was struck by the resemblance of this man to Ian Nottingham.  Yoshinaka was clearly Japanese, and yet there was an uncanny amount of Nottingham in his face.  Especially his eyes, which at the moment were studying him carefully.

            "You have not said much Hikaru, is there something wrong?"

            "No" said Gabriel lowering his gaze.  "I guess I'm still a little tired"

            "He is always tired" said Usagi turning to sit forward on Yoshinaka's lap.  "If it were up to him, he would sleep all day"

            "If it were up to me, you'd sleep all day" said Gabriel sticking his tongue out at his "sister."  She returned the sentiment with added vigor.

            Yoshinaka ignored the bickering and glanced over at Sara who looked to be deep in thought.  '_What is bothering you beloved?_'

            Sara briefly raised her eyes at his entrance into her thoughts.  _'Nothing, my love…perhaps I too am just a little tired_' she thought back at him.

            '_Come now Tomoe, how long have I known you?  You can not hide your thoughts from me._'

            Sara's eyes saddened as she realized that it was true.  '_The emperor has declined my request, he will not give me leave to assist you._'

            '_I am not surprised' thought _Yoshinaka, sipping his tea.

            _'He is still new to his post…he needs me to assist him…_'

            '_Do not insult me Tomoe' _thought Yoshinaka angrily, though on the outside he laughed at the face Usagi was making at Hikaru.  _'It would be obvious to a blind man, the real reason he will not let you go_.'

            "That was a long time ago" said Sara/Tomoe aloud.

            Gabriel looked over at her.  'Where did that come from?'

            Sara was flustered.  "He does not feel that way about me anymore, and you would do good to understand that."

            Yoshinaka removed Usagi from his lap and stood.  "I am quite aware of how the emperor feels about you Tomoe what I don't understand is how you feel about him."

            Gabriel saw the look he gave her before he left the room, it was the wounded one Nottingham so often gave Sara. 'What did I miss?' he thought.  'Why are they fighting?'  He suddenly heard a beeping sound in the back of his head which began to steadily get louder.

            Opening his eyes he recognized that it was his computer, he had fallen asleep on the keyboard.  Rubbing the side of his face he realized that he would have to pay more attention next time, instead of bickering with Usagi.  As fun as that was, he couldn't help but feel he had missed out on something, something about the emperor.  

            Checking his phone he realized Sara still hadn't called him.  It had only been a few hours, but she was usually pretty good at getting back to him.  He contemplated calling her cell, but then decided against it.  Having one stalker was bad enough, she didn't need another one.  She would probably call him tomorrow, he didn't have to worry until then.

            Jake came down the steps of Vicky's apartment building and walked over to his car.  Sara never showed, and her cell seemed to be off.  He was exhausted and going home to sleep, he had to work tomorrow, though if the storm hit tonight, it would probably be a pretty relaxing day; well except for the serial.  There hadn't been another murder in a little over a week.  And while it may have been a good thing it also had Jake a little worried…like the lull before a storm.

            On the roof of a nearby building, Cyan had Jake in her sights, but just as she was about to pull the trigger, she felt a presence behind her.  Turning quickly she dropped the rifle and pointed her Glock at the man sneaking up on her.

            "Jesus Ian" she exclaimed, "I could have killed you."

            "Doubtful" he responded.  Grabbing her wrist with his right hand and turning his back into her, he drove his elbow into her stomach and then twisted her around pinning her arm painfully behind her back.  Dropping to one knee she swung her left leg behind her freeing herself from his grasp as he moved to avoid it.  She spun around and kicked him in the chest, then blocked a thrust to her neck and retaliated with a strike to his face.  Ian blocked the blow and stepped up his attack, making Cyan work to keep his strikes from hitting and incapacitating her.  Eventually she fell backwards and momentarily floundered as she tried to get up.  Ian stepped over to her and offered her his hand.  Breathing heavily she accepted it and pulled herself up.  He bent down to pick up her gun and as he stood found a 9 millimeter pointed in his face.

            "Ian" she breathed, "What...the fuck?…"

            Ian flipped the gun in his hand and held it out to her handle first.  "I am sorry Cyan, I had to make sure you were ready."

            "Ready to get my ass whipped?"

            "Potentially."

            Cyan didn't know what to say, she had sparred with Ian before, but not like this.  It was as if he had deliberately meant to hurt her.  There were at least 6 places on her body that would be bruised by tomorrow.  She lowered her gun and took the one he held out to her.

            "You've been keeping up with your training," Nottingham said as he looked her up and down.  "Your form has improved, but your reflexes are still a little slow."

            "Well since I haven't seen my teacher in over a month…go figure."  Her right arm slouched a little and she gritted her teeth against the pain.  Ian reached out to touch it and she instinctively pulled away.

            "Is it dislocated?" he asked softly.

            "You should know" she replied.

            Ian reached out again and this time she didn't pull away.  He unzipped her jacket and pulled it carefully over her shoulder.  It was dislocated, and Ian marveled at her tolerance for pain.  Bracing her against his chest he pulled on her arm, popping it back into place, as she screamed.

            Ian lowered his eyes, distraught over the pain he had caused his friend.  But he had needed to test her if he was going to bring her into this, make sure she wouldn't end up dead.

            "Cyan I need your help."

            "With what?" she asked, slowly zipping up her jacket.

            Ian didn't know where to begin.  "It's Sara…" he said quietly.  "…she's gone."

            Cyan was confused.  "Gone?" she asked.  "Gone where?"

            Ian lowered his eyes again and she suddenly understood.

            "Oh my God Ian" she said putting her arms around him, forgetting the pain in her shoulder and that moments ago he had attacked her.  "I'm so sorry…what happened?"

            "That is still unclear" he said.  "But I do know the cause."

            Cyan stepped back from him recognizing the tone in his voice.  Hers had been the same after her brother died.  She gathered her bag and her rifle, briefly noting that McCarty's vehicle was long gone and turned back to Ian.

            "Whatever you need?" she said.

            "Thank you."

            "But don't think I won't be dreaming up some clever way to get back at you for the arm." 

            Ian smiled slightly.  "I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

            "Good" she said emphatically.  "And I promise it will be painful."

            Ian rolled his eyes.  "Drama queen" he muttered.

            "Sadist" she muttered back.


	20. The Gauntlet

A/N:  Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, I'd have finished this part faster, but I got distracted by reading everyone else's stories, and trying to think up witty things to say in my reviews.  Oh and if you're anything like me and constantly have to have music playing I was listening to Massive Attack - Mezzanine/100th Window while writing this.

Chapter 20:  The Gauntlet

            Ian watched Cyan put her bag and rifle into the trunk of her car.

            "How did you find me anyway?" she asked closing the lid. It had begun to snow and her breath came in short puffs of white smoke.

            Ian's eyes narrowed slightly.  "This is my car," he said as he began to walk around it.

            "You mean you bugged it?"

            Ian grimaced at a large dent on the right side door.  "All of Mr. Irons vehicles have been fitted with tracers, it is a safety precau…"  Ian fingered the scrape that went from the front left light across the bottom left of the sedan.  "Cyan, what have you been doing to this car?"

            "What?" she asked innocently.  Ian raised his eyebrows.  "So it has a few scrapes" she continued, opening the driver side door.  "It's my get away car…whatayagonnado?"

            "It is a $90,000 piece of art Cyan, and must be treated with respect."

            "Alright, alright" she said getting in.  "Are you going to follow me, or should I follow you?"

            Before he could answer,  Ian's "spidey sense" kicked in and he looked up just in time to see a motorcycle leap from the building behind them and land on the front of the car.  The back wheel spun noisily and the bike sped off the hood and down the street, turning into a clean brake about 50ft away from them.

            "You gotta be kidding me" said Cyan, as Nottingham quickly pulled her from the car and threw her to the ground a few feet from the vehicle.  Less than five seconds later the car erupted into a ball of flame as, the mini rocket the biker had launched hit it's target.

            Cyan struggled to catch her breath and sat up to look at the burning wreckage.  "And you were worried about a few scrapes."

            Nottingham leapt to his feet, staring at the biker through the flames.  Her blonde hair whipped in the wind from underneath her shiny black helmet.  'So he has enlisted as well' he thought bitterly.  "Come on" he said to Cyan running to his car.  "It begins."

Cyan jumped up and ran after him, hoping that what was beginning… was not her final hours on earth. 

            Genesis stepped quietly into the darkened room, his scattered thoughts making him quite uneasy.  How much longer would she remain like this? Had he made the right decision or had he erred in his impatience.  Her scream had indeed frightened even him, and for a brief moment he had doubted, as her body slumped to the ground, so entirely still.  Stepping over to the bed, he clasped his hands in front of him. 'To whom does one pray, for the recovery of a deity' he thought, dropping to his knees, his head bowed against his chest.  But as he looked up to regard her unconscious form, he saw that the bed was empty.  Quickly rising to his feet, he anxiously scanned the room and saw that it too was empty.  Genesis dashed into the hall, frantically searching each of the few rooms in the loft space for any sign or trace of her; stopping as he saw it, at the top of the stairs leading to the roof.   The door swung back and forth, obviously left open in haste.  Running up the stairs and out onto the rooftop he saw the small footsteps in the snow leading towards the edge.

            "No" screamed Genesis, "I've come so far…" His cries of anguish whipped around the rooftop in the wind and snow.  "This cannot end like this" he shouted, heading back towards the stairs.  "My will, will not… be… denied."

            Ian and Cyan sped after the woman on the bike.

            "She's with him, I'm guessing." said Cyan.

            Ian nodded.  "And there will probably be more."

            Cyan smiled, and opened the glove compartment.  She removed the gun from inside and checked the clip.  "Of course," she said, "there's always more."

            Ian slowed down and then pulled over.  The motorcycle was parked a few feet in front of them at the entrance to an alley.  They got out of the car and opened the trunk.  Ian strapped on his katana and several guns under his coat.  Cyan chose her weapons and was surprised when he handed her his wakizashi sword.  She nodded as she took it, not quite sure what to say.  Ian closed the trunk and they moved to the entrance of the alley.

            The snow was coming down quite heavily now, and it looked quite beautiful as it danced around in the moonlight.

            "How many do you think there'll be" asked Cyan looking ahead into the darkened alley.

            Ian began to move forward.  "Not nearly enough."

            Jake had just reached his apartment when he got the call about the explosion near Vicky's place.  After a few properly placed calls he found out that a car had been hit with a rocket and that the car had been registered to Kenneth Irons.  

'Nottingham' thought McCarty. 'What the hell was he up to?'  He called Sara's cell again, but still got no answer.  'Something is going on' he thought 'I can feel it.'  Turning on his police scanner he decided to wait, eventually he'd get his clue, a building explosion, or shots fired…with Nottingham involved, it was just a matter of time.

            Ian grabbed the forearm of his attacker and pivoted, bringing his left fist up into the man's chin.  The man slumped slowly to the ground and Ian stepped over him.  Two more men appeared in front and behind him, dressed in the same black leather as his other attacker had been.  The front one swung at him, but Ian blocked the blow with his forearm and drove his stiffened fingers into the man's chest simultaneously back-handing the man behind him and kicking him in the stomach.  Both men collapsed quietly as Ian continued forward.

            Cyan had climbed the fire escape at the front of the alley and was moving across the rooftops.  Her first attacker pulled a knife, and as Cyan stepped closer, jabbed at her chest.  Cyan dodged the thrust easily, grabbing the man's wrist and bringing her right elbow down on his arm.  The bone snapped loudly and Cyan forced the attacker to his knees finishing him off with a blow to the base of his skull.  "Easy as pie" she said, looking up as a gleam of light caught her eye.  

At the edge of the roof stood a woman with a sword.  She nodded at Cyan and raised the blade in challenge.  Cyan slowly drew Ian's sword from it's sheath and bowed in acceptance.

            On the ground below them, Ian slowly wiped the blood from his nose on the back of his glove.  The man who had put it there stared at his fist and then at Nottingham's face, not quite able to believe he had actually made contact.  Perhaps he would have been proud if not five of his teammates were lying dead or dying around him.  He might even have smiled and raised his fist to hit him again.  But the look in Ian's eye as he flung the blood to the ground, told him either action would mean immediate death.

            At that exact moment a body descended from the rooftop and landed messily between them.

            "Watch that first step," a voice called from above.  Cyan waved down at Ian and then stood up to wipe her sword on the sleeve of her coat.  "It's a killer," she muttered, leaping to the roof of the next building in front of her.

            The man in front of Ian began to shake visibly, and not from the cold.

            "Your mistress awaits at the end of the gauntlet?" Ian asked quietly.

            The shaking man nodded, briefly looking down the alley way, and then back at Nottingham.

            "You will not see her again, I should think," said Ian, following the man's gaze.  "But I wish you to deliver a message to her master."  He leaned in suddenly and whispered something into the terrified assassins ear.  Then raising his head he grabbed the hilt of his katana and leapt forward, disappearing into the darkness.  His messenger watched him go, and when he could no longer see his outline, he ran.

            Ian pressed on swiftly disposing of each new threat he met on his path.  Occasionally a body would drop from the roof along with a smart remark, reassuring him that his partner was still with him, but inside he could not help but feel this was a ruse.  'His attackers were good,' he thought…

            "But not quite good enough?"

            Ian looked up to see he had reached the end of the alley, and was now standing in a small round enclosure lined with back doors.  The blonde woman that had ridden the motorcycle stood a few feet in front of him, smiling at him with cold blue eyes.

            "Relax," she said suddenly.  "I'm not a mind reader… just very intuitive."

            Ian shifted his body into what anyone would think was a relaxed position, and crossed his arms against his chest.  She noticed it right away, and wondered how many others had been fooled by the "sleeping" dragon.

            "You're right of course" she continued.  "I just wanted them to soften you up."  Her eyes flashed humorously.  "Even tire you a little."

            Ian looked utterly bored.  "Why did he send you?" he asked, his eyes tightening a fraction.

            "He's quite busy…" she said.  "I volunteered."  At that Ian smiled and the woman smiled back.  "And when I have disposed of you," she added, "he will reward me greatly."

            Ian slowly shook his head.  "Some rewards mistress… are not worth the risk."

            She drew her sword and slashed at him, but he solidly held the blow against his quickly unsheathed blade.  Her eyes narrowed in annoyance and she pulled away from him, turning into a back flip, her right foot connecting with his chin.  Once again advancing she sliced at his neck and then kicked at his chest.  But Nottingham dodged the slash and slapped her foot away, retaliating with a blow to the neck that caused her to stumble backwards clutching at her throat.  He moved in swiftly, striking at her with his sword while she blocked and countered all his movements.  After regaining her momentum she dropped to elude Nottingham's blade, kicking him in the knee and following through with an upwards swipe.  Ian felt the sharp burn as the metal sliced through his flesh.  Dropping his katana he fell to one knee, her harsh laughter ringing in his ears.  She stepped around him slowly, kicking his blade out of his reach.

            "I know what you're thinking" she said, still a little breathless from their duel.  "How easily you could end this if you just reached for one of your guns."  She laughed again as she stopped in front of him.  "But your useless sense of honour, won't let you…now will it?"  Nottingham closed his eyes and seemed sway a little in the snow fall.  "A fight that begins as a sword fight, should end as one huh?"  She tapped the end of her sword on her gloved palm.  "Well let me tell you what I think" she said leaning in close.  "There is no honour in killing" she whispered,  "so just get the job done anyway… you… can."

            Ian's fist enclosed tightly around the blonde woman's neck.  Her eyes bulged with pain as she dropped her sword and clawed at his hand, gasping for air.  "You should be happy, that I do not agree" said Ian as the woman began to black out.  "For if I did," he whispered softly,  "you would already be dead."

            Cyan entered the alley behind him, sighing as she saw the knocked out blonde on the ground.  "Damn, I missed all the fun."

            Ian regarded his blood splattered friend carefully.  "You seem to have had enough fun on your own."

            Cyan laughed, feigning false modesty.  "Yah well, you know…I do what I can."

            Ian picked up his blade and threw the unconscious woman over his shoulder.  "And I appreciate it" he said to her earnestly.

            Cyan followed him out of the alley and back towards the car.  "Hey, what are friends for?"

            Ian bound the woman and placed her into the trunk, careful to move all his "instruments" to the back seat.

            "You taking her back to Iron's?" asked Cyan.  Nottingham nodded opening the driver side door.  Cyan whistled softly, "I feel sooorry for her" she said.

            But Ian wasn't listening.  Ahead of them he saw a figure approaching through the ever thickening snow.  Her long auburn locks tossing carefree in the wind, her arms clutched around her in some effort to keep warm.

            "…sara?" whispered Ian, causing Cyan to follow his gaze.

            He stepped around the car door and began to move towards her, his pace quickening as he made out more and more of her features.  The figure not far from him collapsed and Ian ran towards her dropping to his knees in front of her and pulling her into his arms.  He could not speak, but to say her name over and over again, holding her tighter against him, afraid to let her go…afraid… of something else as well.  He tried to push the thought away and find solace in the softness of her hair, to find comfort in her gentle breath against his neck.  But his mind would not let him.  Closing his eyes tighter he forced himself to acknowledge the truth.  That while he could see her, and feel her weight in his arms, while he could even smell her scent as the tendrils of her hair teased his nostrils in the wind….he could not sense her…she was still in essence…gone.  Pushing back from her slightly, so he could look into her face, his hand gently lifted her chin.  But when she raised her eyes to look at him, they were not the brilliantly green crystal orbs, he had become lost in more than once…but two dark black pools that neither shone nor reflected the light.  Ian suddenly heard a scream break against the silence of the night.  Then in terror realized it was his own.


	21. Questions

A/N: Sorry about the delay, RL kinda gets in the way sometimes…you know how it is…

Chapter 21: Questions

A small prick of pain near her ankle roused her from unconsciousness. Opening her eyes and attempting to adjust to the low light in the room, she looked down to see a white haired man placing a hypodermic needle back into a small case.

"Thank you Dr. Immo" said a voice from somewhere to the right of her. The elderly gentleman stood, nodded in the direction of the window and left her view.

Her head was throbbing, and so was her throat, and thanks to whatever it was this Dr. Immo had injected her with, a strange new sensation had begun to develop in her feet.

"It's a mild poison" said the man near the window. She could see his outline clearly now as her vision began to clear. "Designed to cause paralysis" he continued, "as it spreads throughout your system." Opening a silver pocket watch he seemed to check the time. "I'd say you have about 20 maybe 30 minutes before the damage becomes irreparable." He smiled at her from the shadows. "Unless of course, I give you the antidote."

"Perhaps," she said quietly, her voice rough with pain, "you should rethink your use of the word mild."

Kenneth chuckled as he came closer and sat in the armchair across from her. There was a brief flash of fear in her eyes, but it was quickly hidden behind what he assumed was years of training.

"What is your name?" Irons asked her.

The woman lowered her gaze but did not speak.

"Come now, I do need to call you something" he said, observing the multi-coloured bruises on her neck. "And you've already proven Ian spared you your voice."

Her eyes flashed angrily at the memory of Nottingham choking her. "…Lilith," she eventually whispered.

"Ahhh," said Irons, "How appropriately poetic."

The strange feeling in her feet, that Lilith now knew as paralysis, began to spread to her lower extremities, making them feel stiff and numb.

"Am I correct in assuming you are acquainted with this…Genesis."

Lilith smiled broadly despite her discomfort. "All will be acquainted with him in time," she said slowly. "He is the end and the beginning… the soldier of fate, the bringer of rebirth."

Irons held up the small red book Ian had given him. "Yes, so I've read. Or at least attempted to," he added, casually flipping through the pages. "His penmanship leaves something to be desired wouldn't you say?"

Lilith did not respond.

"What of this temple he speaks of and this… bright lady?" She looked a little surprised but still chose not to answer. Kenneth looked at his watch again, tapping lightly on the glass. "Time is ticking young lady," he offered with a smile.

"I am not afraid to die," she said, looking him defiantly in the eye.

"The truest words of a coward" scoffed Irons. "Echoed repeatedly throughout time. It is easier to die then to live through peril…" he spat. "Then to face your fears and conquer them and still remain standing." Leaning back in his chair he regarded her carefully. "Not that it really matters in your case."

Lilith squinted as she looked him, slightly cocking her head.

"You see," Kenneth continued. "I have no intention of killing you. You'll be paralyzed, but you'll live… for as long as I choose. You'll spend day after day, week after week, unable to move or to speak… unable to delight in the caress of a warm summer breeze, or cherish the embrace of a lover's arms." Irons smiled cruelly, as the fear returned to her face, her hands opening and closing against the arms of her chair.

"The temple" she began, "is in the western deserts of Egypt. It is an un-plundered treasure thought as myth by historians, and deemed too far and dangerous by the locals." She paused for a moment, swallowing painfully before continuing. "But one man dared the journey, in search of an ease to his suffering. And what he found there, changed him and the lives of all he would touch irrevocably…"

Jeff Davies collapsed in the sand near the bottom of a dune. 'I will die out here' he thought, 'I have come out here to die.' It had fast approached night and the wind that blew around him, had quickly changed from scorchingly hot, to intensely cold.

'Once again I have failed them…in death as in life.' Quietly he began to cry, surprised his brittle body was still able to produce the salty liquid. He watched his tears slip from his face and onto the sun bleached sand, but then noticed with some interest that they did not soak in. In fact they seemed to skitter along the surface traveling westward away from him. He dragged himself after them, curious to see their path and was surprised to see them glinting off the moonlight more than a few feet away from him. 'So I am hallucinating at last' he mumbled, watching with amazement as the tears then stopped and began to move in a circular motion. A mini whirlwind sprung to life as the tears circled each other, growing larger and larger as they increased in speed. Jeff pulled himself to knees to watch the spectacle in front of him, marveling at the sandstorm that he assumed would bring his end. He closed his eyes as it grew closer, whispering his apologies and goodbyes. His last thoughts were of his wife before the storm engulfed him.

A short time later he awoke on the floor of a cavern. To his right was a wide set of stairs leading upwards to a platform infused in an eerie bright light. He slowly raised his head watching it bounce and reflect off the walls and the ceiling, but it wasn't his curiosity that got him moving towards it, half running half dragging himself up the stone steps. It was the sound of flowing water that called to him incessantly, somehow giving him the strength to ascend the stairs before collapsing at the edge of a fountain. 'Am I dreaming?' he thought wearily, tentatively placing his hand into the water. Upon discovering it was real he quickly rose to his knees lowering his mouth to the surface to drink.

'Slowly…sad one.' said a voice from behind him. 'Too much too quick and you will make yourself sick.'

Jeff quickly spun around but the cavern was empty. Turning back towards the fountain, he wondered if he'd imagined it. But as he looked down into the water again, he saw a reflection next to his. A dark haired woman with caramel coloured eyes smiled up at him from the surface. He looked to his right, where she would have been standing to create the image but there was no one there. "So I am dreaming," he said aloud, looking back into the fountain. The woman's reflection laughed and then winked.

"Not all things fantastical, exist only in dreams"

"Then am I dead?" he asked the woman, who shook her head emphatically.

"If you were dead, you would not be here, and here is where you are"

"And where is that?" He asked curtly, still unsure he wasn't crazy.

"Where you longed to be" came the reply, followed by another dimpled smile.

He looked around the cavern again, taking in his surroundings. "The temple of Charmaine?"

"In part" she answered sadly.

Turning back to her quickly he said, "Then you know why I've come."

The reflection seemed to dance upon the surface of the water, her eyes sparkling with interest. "Yes" she answered softly, her voice rippling with the waves "I do."

Jeff then noticed that the light surrounding the fountain, came from the water. It steadily began to brighten, forcing him to his feet and away from the ledge. He partly shielded his eyes as he watched the water flow weaken, the primitive carvings surrounding the center piece becoming clearer as the water thinned. Coiled around the top of the ornate column, was a stone Egyptian asp, and in it's open mouth a brilliantly green jewel.

"What… is that?" he asked softly, taking a step forward, so he could examine it more closely.

The water hummed in front of him, the reflection's voice tinkling on the surface. "Grasp it Genesis," she called. "For it is your destiny."

Irons stared across at Lilith as she stopped speaking. She began flexing her fingers again to ward off the stiffness that was slowly gaining ground. He in turn was rapidly attempting to process the information she had just given him.

"Genesis has the gem," he muttered. It was suddenly all so clear. They were interrupted by a knock at the door and a servant entered to inform Irons of a phone call. Rising to follow him out he turned back towards Lilith. "Don't go anywhere," he called over his shoulder, smiling at her frown as he closed the door behind him.

"Good evening Captain Dante" said Kenneth as he picked up the phone.

"Listen up Irons I don't know what kind of private war you've got going on, but when it spills onto the street, it's kinda difficult to keep under wraps."

"Come now Captain, I'm sure a man of your many talents can come up with some kind of plausible story."

"What the hell's going on anyway, your boy Nottingham left an alley full of bodies down here, people who I'm sure have families who are going to want answers."

"Ian was following orders Dante, a concept you seem to increasingly be having trouble with…"

"Alright, alright," Dante interrupted, "just one more thing."

Kenneth sighed, dealing with this man was quite exasperating.

"Does Detective Petzinni have anything to do with this?"

Kenneth rolled his eyes. "Goodbye Captain Dante," he answered, hanging up the phone.

"Figures, " mumbled Dante, getting out of his car. A few feet in front of him Jake was conversing with another officer.

"What are you doing here Detective?" he asked walking over to them.

"I was in the neighbourhood."

"Ya, I bet you were," said Dante glancing behind him. "Where is she?"

Jake's face blanked with innocence. "Where's who?"

"Don't get smart with me McCarty, Petzinni, where is she?"

Jake smirked as Dante turned away from him to look through the crowd of officers. "Well it is her day off sir, so I guess she could be… just about anywhere."

Dante looked back at him, not missing the thinly veiled sarcasm in his voice. "Go home McCarty," he said roughly. "We got this covered." Turning away from him he added, "After all it's your day off too, isn't it?"

Jake watched him walk away, inwardly curious as to why Dante was here in the first place. 'And just where was Sara anyway?' he thought as he walked back to his car. 'It wasn't like to her to be so unreachable…at least not physically.' He dusted the snow from his hair and jacket before getting into the car. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something big was going on right in front of him; and that he was the only one out of the loop.

Ian awoke in his room, tucked carefully into bed. He raised himself slightly and looked around. Cyan was standing by the window, her arms crossed against her chest as she stared out at the snow.

"….Sara…where's Sara?" he asked, confused and disoriented.

Cyan came over to the bed. "Hey there tiger, just try to relax…your safe now," she said, glancing around the room. "Relatively anyway."

He slowly lay down again. "What happened?" he asked.

"You screamed and then fainted." Ian's eyes narrowed slightly. "Sorry, sorry" she said, holding up her hands defensively. "How 'bout bellowed, then passed out?"

He flung off his sheets and swung his legs out of bed. "Where is she?"

Cyan moved over to a chair and sat down. "The blonde is with Irons…and Sara is…" her voice trailed off.

"Is gone" whispered Ian, not looking back at her.

"Ya well, she kind of took off after you collapsed. I tried calling out for her, but the snow made it hard to see and you…" Cyan glared at him angrily. "You should have told me you were injured."

"It was nothing," said Ian quietly, standing carefully and disappearing into his closet.

"Ya right, if that blade had cut an inch deeper you're ass would've been dead, and that's a direct quote from the Dr."

"Dr. Immo does not swear."

She sat back heavily against the chair. "You know what I mean."

They were both silent as Ian dressed and emerged from the walk-in closet, "Thank you for your help Cyan, I know it is difficult for you to be here."

She smiled at him softly. "Hey everyone has their demons," she said. "Mine just don't happen to be inner."

Ian understood, Irons was the one who created the Black Dragons and in doing so was responsible for her brothers fate. As was he and as was…

"There's something I don't understand" said Cyan suddenly, interrupting Ian's thoughts. "I thought you said Sara was…I mean you implied that she was…"

"I…thought she was" said Ian quietly, reaching for an elastic off his dresser.

Cyan looked over at him, 'He is hiding something' she thought, 'something big.' "Hopefully there will be a time," she said slowly, "when you feel you can explain…all of this." Ian lowered his head, his palms resting flat against the surface of the dresser. "It's okay Ian" she added. "I can wait."

Ian mulled this over, she wanted to understand, but it was not really his place to say. He had always deferred to Irons and Sara when it came to the blade, and he could not explain things to her without feeling that he had in a sense betrayed them. He thought back to the woman he had embraced in the snow, the Sara who was somehow not Sara, and felt his heartache. Reaching into the top drawer he pulled out a small flyer, advertising a free oil change. He needed answers as well, but unlike Cyan was not content to wait.

"Come" he said abruptly, "I will take you home."

Genesis frowned at the man kneeling in front of him. A brief wave of anger washed over him as he received Nottingham's message.

"Is she alive?" he finally ground out.

"I do not know" came the reply. "I….I came to you right away."

He would have struck him, if not for the figure in the doorway, shivering from the cold and watching him with dark eyes.

"My lady" said Genesis, forgetting the man in front of him. "You… came back."

Her eyes went from Genesis to the man on the floor and back again. "I am cold" she said quietly.

Genesis grabbed a blanket off the nearby couch and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Leave us," he said to the messenger as he led Sara over to the couch.

"Who are you?" she asked pulling the blanket tighter around her.

"Your faithful servant my lady, here to guide and protect you."

She looked at him carefully. "You are not the protector."

Genesis was humbled. "Perhaps not" he said quietly, "and yet I have still made it my sworn duty."

She looked down at the bracelet on her wrist. The gem was dark, and cold to the touch. She breathed in deeply. "It has been some time…" she said, observing Genesis carefully. "What is it you want of me?"

Genesis knelt at her feet, lowering his chin to his chest. "Only the chance to serve my lady, to cater to each whim and fancy."

"You misspeak pretender," she said sharply, rising to move to the window. "I have no whims or fancies."

"I apologize, my lady, I did not mean to…"

"Yes, I'm sure you didn't."

"If you would permit me to rephrase,' offered Genesis, standing to face her. "I am only here to serve…there must be something you desire."

Sara turned to look at him, her dark eyes studying him coldly. "None of us is beyond desire," she said softly, a small grin playing about her lips. "Perhaps," she continued, "you can be of use to me."

-----------/

Somewhere, deep in an unknown space, lost and scared in an encroaching darkness, Sara Magdalene Pezinni, New York City Police Detective and wielder of the mythical witchblade, soundlessly screams against the dying of the light.


End file.
